Gloves
by Shinsun
Summary: Another yaoi GXV fic. After Bulma's death, Vegeta finds himself in need of money to keep up with his responsibilities. After trying and failing to get a job, the prince finds that the only thing he's good at for a decent pay is something he probably shouldn't do. And when Goku finds Vegeta's secret, a whole new problem begins. The title's relevance will be shown eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Gloves

Chapter 1 - Caught

The prince was fast. In fact, Goku found he had a hard time following Vegeta's movement as he twirled and undulated like a professional around a vertical steel pole that connected the raised platform to the ceiling; his dark tail correcting his balance and accenting his riveting dance. He was clad in nothing but skintight black leather shorts that clung to every muscle, knee-high black leather boots and the white gloves that he always wore. His perfect bronze skin was glistening with a sheen of sweat and scented oil that made him seem to glow from the inside. He was a stunning sight, admittedly... but why was he _here?_

There were girls here. Obviously. The usual slim, lightly tanned women in bikinis and... other things... dancing and teasing with dollar bills sticking out of their panties, but their attempts to get the attention of the only Saiyan in the room – aside from the prince on the pole of course – were in vain. Simply put, Vegeta was the show-stopper. And any of the various females' performances were nothing compared to his. Guilt gnawed at Goku's chest as he thought this. He shouldn't even be here, but then, neither should the prince.

He had barely believed Yamcha's story about seeing Vegeta in a strip club. Of course, he knew about Yamcha's hobbies... or rather, guilty pleasures, but he also knew his tendency to exaggerate and make up stories just trying to impress people. When Krillin came to him with the same story, however, he had to consider the possibility of the truth. It still seemed preposterous, even with Vegeta _right there_ like they said. The prince was just too proud and dignified to be seen doing... what he was doing. And Goku winced as he thought of what said prince would likely do if he knew Goku was here.

But Vegeta didn't even seem to notice anyone around him. Unlike the other strippers here – it was nearly painful to think of Vegeta as such, but there was no denying this – he wasn't trying to get anyone's attention, nor did he demean himself teasing his audience. It was almost like he didn't even know he was being watched. There was a rather impressive scattering of dollar bills on the floor around him, and it was easy to see why.

It wasn't even like he was dancing to the music; it was like the music was trying to compliment him. When he was spinning rapidly around the pole it was like a perpetual movement, as if he didn't have the capability to become dizzy. Maybe he didn't. And every limb moved in perfect harmony with the others, legs hooking effortlessly around the steel bar, gloved hands sliding and gripping and constantly adjusting to the unceasing movement of his body. Eyes closed as if he didn't need vision to see what he was doing. He was not a delicate thing, nor did he resemble one of the tattooed, oily hulks of any other male stripper Goku had seen. He was like living fire, an apparition, powerful and lithe, full of energy and the blaze of beauty that was the prince.

Once he realized where his thoughts were going, Goku almost slapped himself. He was here to confront the prince, not stare at him.

It was time to get some answers, and the only way he would get them would be if he got Vegeta alone somehow.

X

Endless spinning. Vegeta felt sweat pricking his forehead and slicking down his back as he moved. The bar was hot where it came in contact with his skin and the constant spiraling made him vertiginous, but he didn't stop or even slow. Saiyan energy coursed through his veins, lending him endurance that kept him going at such a pace. It had been hours, and he hadn't even stopped to take a breather.

He knew they were there. The idiot humans. He didn't care for their praise or their staring, all he wanted was their money. And he knew it was there too, littered at his feet. And it wasn't just from the wealthy female humans who came to gawk at him and the other muscular idiots whose dignity dropped faster than their pants. The males watched him too. Perhaps a guilty fantasy of theirs, to have such perfection at their disposal. Vegeta smirked as he moved through a rapid Oona Spin, aided by his shimmying tail. He was a prince, he was at _no one's_ disposal. And just because he did this for their entertainment did not mean he cared what they thought.

He'd spoken to his... coworkers... if that term applied... and heard what they said. They said it was a lot easier to get a lot more money if they were paid for by an individual. Unsure what they meant, he asked one of the other pole dancers about it, a female whose name he couldn't quite recall. She told him that some people came for other reasons than just to watch. Some wanted a more... intimate... approach. Frustrated with her evasive replies, Vegeta had growled at her and demanded a straight answer. The woman had said that some people paid so that they could fuck the strippers here, and that it paid a lot better than tossing dollar bills at them.

Vegeta had scowled. He was no one's plaything. He did this because he could, because he needed the money, and because it was all he was good at. _Not_ because he had any inclination to sell his body to whoever happened by. And he had refused when someone asked for him. It was a rare occurrence that someone did, but yes there were some people who might have been brave enough to ask. And it was then that he figured out that it was better to ignore them than to spit at their audacity. He lost a lot less money that way.

He couldn't remember when he'd started caring about money like this, but things had gone downhill pretty fast since Bulma died. Still having to care for Trunks and keep Capsule Corp from going out of business in the absence of the woman, he'd tried over and over to get a job somehow to keep up with the extra costs. He'd been fired more times than he could count, either because he'd punched someone who got on his nerves or because he blew something up that was apparently valuable, it didn't matter. And then he'd found this place. He'd heard the scarred idiot who used to date Bulma prattling on about the strip clubs he'd been to where people literally threw money at the dancers, just for being able to perform some complex movements and for having a desirable physical appearance.

It turned out Vegeta was good at this. His physique made him an intriguing specimen for men and women alike, and his Saiyan reflexes and energy allowed his body to bend in ways it was probably not supposed to were he a human. At first, he only came to show as much skin as the people demanded and collect their money, but he quickly grew not only bored, but disgusted with that. And he still wanted to punch something, which he guessed would get him kicked out.

He soon learned that he could put his flexibility to use here. He didn't even have to take off much of his clothes, all he had to do was keep moving and keep people interested. The "dancing" as they called it was not that much different from his training, it still required reflexes, muscle movement, and strength; just applied in a slightly different way. He saw how the women danced. It was a tease to them, keeping their audience watching with sexual movements and strategically exposed skin. And after some practice and a wardrobe change from the usual spandex, he discovered he could manipulate the people watching in much the same way, and still retain some of his pride. Not a lot, but enough to keep him from blowing something up.

And it had been like this for almost two years.

Vegeta sighed and dismounted with flourish, the inside of his thigh burning a little from scraping the steel. His eyes flitted over the crowd as his tail swept up as much of the scattered money as it could gather. His gaze landed on a very familiar pair of black eyes, shadowed by thick bangs beneath a shock of spiky black hair.

"Dammit," he breathed. His heart racing with what might have been panic.

Kakarot had found him.

X

Vegeta spun one last time, gliding to the floor and shooting an almost coy glance over his shoulder. He stood fluidly, discreetly collecting the dollar bills around him with his tail. His gaze snapped to Goku's and he jumped slightly. The prince knew he was here now. Goku wasn't sure how he would react, but he suspected Vegeta would think Goku had come to humiliate him or something. He usually did think that way. He was surprised when the prince only gave him a shredding glare before turning on the slightly raised heel of his boot and leaving with a forced - but sexy nonetheless - sway of his hips.

Goku wasn't sure what to do. It was highly unlikely that the prince would seek him out or even be willing to talk after this. If they had even been friends before, they probably weren't now.

Even if Goku pursued him, demanding answers, he figured Vegeta would probably just shout at him, call him an idiot third-class and leave again with a parting punch to Goku's face. It had happened before, but never with circumstances like these. Now it might be worse.

And Goku did not belittle Vegeta for this. He didn't think the prince was a whore or whatever he was supposed to call him for being what he was or doing what he was doing. He knew Vegeta had been devastated after Bulma's death, even if he didn't show it. He also knew from Goten's conversations with Trunks that money was tight for both father and son right now. He could relate. Things weren't too great for him either since ChiChi had gotten sick and stopped working. And when she died he had to support Goten and Gohan on his own, and it wasn't exactly easy. He still had money left over from the tournaments he'd won, but he genuinely missed the company of his wife. Humans just didn't live as long as Saiyans did, and while many of his friends were still alive and well in their mid-forties or so, he knew that they too would pass eventually. Being full-blooded Saiyans, he and Vegeta were still in the prime of youth, but he wasn't sure he himself would have gone as far as this unless he was forced to. So he had to wonder why the prince had.

What had driven Vegeta to selling his dignity for some extra cash to keep him afloat? Was this a choice, or a last resort? Why didn't he ask Goku for money if he needed it that much? Probably his pride forbidding him to beg or whatever the case. But his pride hadn't kept him from doing this, so who could say?

The only way he'd know would be if he asked the prince directly, and there was only one way of doing that that he could think of without chasing Vegeta down.

X

_That imbecilic, good-for-nothing, nosy, third-class, do-gooder piece of shit_! Vegeta thought mutinously as he paced back and forth, seething. Couldn't Kakarot just leave well enough alone and stop humiliating Vegeta whenever he saw the chance? Couldn't he just...

Vegeta snarled and clenched his fists, refusing to give into his anger and destroy something. This was the only paying job he'd managed to keep for this long, and he was _not_ going to lose it just because an idiot third-class of a Saiyan couldn't keep his nose out of everyone's business.

Why had he come here? How had he _known?_ The idiot was probably out there right now, smirking at his superiority and the fact that he'd caught the prince of all Saiyans... _dancing_ like a little whore just to grab some cheap cash from a bunch of pathetic humans wolf-whistling and jerking off below. It was infuriating to even think about!

The worst part? Kakarot would probably tell people. And then word would find its way back to home_; Trunks _ would know. The thought of his son... the disrespect he surely would... the _shame_... it was reason enough to blow Kakarot's head off before he could spill what he'd seen.

He leaned an arm against the door, contemplating simply leaving, at least long enough to clear his head with the cold winter air outside, but he didn't get the chance to make up his mind.

The door to the room swung open and a man stepped in, looking disapproving and slightly bored.

"What?" Vegeta growled, forgetting to check his tone in the presence of his boss... if that's what he was.

"I'm not too happy with you, Mr Briefs," he muttered. Vegeta winced. He'd heard those words before too many times, right before he was about to be fired.

And he forced himself to say something he'd never been good at saying.

"I'm sorry," he forced out.

"I've heard tell from several customers today that they'd like to see a bit _more_ of you, if you catch my drift." the man said stiffly, "Need I remind you what this is?"

Vegeta sighed, he hated saying it, "A strip club." he muttered.

"And what does one expect when they come here?"

Vegeta averted his eyes, wishing he could just blow the man's head off his shoulders.

"Look Mr Briefs ," the man began.

"Vegeta," he corrected, "I'm not married anymore."

"Right. Look Vegeta," he amended, "You're good at what you do, and you've lasted a lot longer here than I would have expected. People like you. But I think they would just like a little less... _clothing _on you."

Vegeta was silent for a moment, weighing his options. He could refuse for the sake of pride and likely get fired, or he could... demean himself further as the man requested. An image of Trunks's face flashed before his eyes. _Do it for him. Who cares what Kakarot thinks?_

"Fine," he muttered, crossing his arms over his bare chest, "Whatever you say."

"Another thing," the man said, "Someone requested you today, said they'd pay any amount for an hour of your time."

Vegeta knew what that meant as well as the man did.

"No," he said instantly.

"Literally _any_ amount. Half of my profit -and therefore _yours –_ comes from things like this. I think you should reconsider."

"I'm not going to sell myself to someone just for a little extra money," Vegeta snarled.

"No one else but _you_ refuses, Vegeta. Cut the defiance and do as I ask or you can kiss your payments goodbye."

Vegeta glanced at the wad of bills clenched in his tail from today. It wasn't a lot, but it was all he had.

"Who requested me?" he muttered, wishing for all the world that he could just say no again.

"Big tall guy. Said he knew you. What was his name... ?"

Vegeta waited with baited breath. It had to be just a coincidence that someone asked today... it couldn't be -

"Oh, I remember! His name was Son Goku."

TBC

_((The Oona Spin is a real poledancing move, and if you want to know what it looks like, look up "pole dancing oona spin" on Google and click on the site that says "Pole Dance Dictionary" or the first video link that comes up. Just thought you'd like the visual._

_-Shinsun))_


	2. Chapter 2

Gloves

Chapter 2 - Money's Worth

The only reason Vegeta didn't refuse was because his mouth didn't work enough to say anything. What was Kakarot playing at? Requesting Vegeta? Surely he didn't actually intend to... to...

No. That would just be ridiculous.

"He'll be with you in a moment," the man said before leaving with a parting glance.

Vegeta stared after him, about to protest but remembering his place here. He didn't have the authority to say no, and he'd surely be fired if he tried to. _I can't... I need this job._

The door opened again after a moment and Kakarot himself walked in. No sneer, nothing, he just entered and looked at Vegeta questioningly.

"What do you want, third-class?" Vegeta snarled, covering his lingering doubt that was warning him he couldn't beat Kakarot if it came to a power struggle.

"Relax, I just want to talk." Kakarot said, "And this was the only way I knew you wouldn't refuse."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow skeptically, "You paid for an hour alone with me _just_ so you could talk? It's really worth that much to you?"

"Sure. I need answers, Vegeta."

Answers. Vegeta dropped his gaze to the floor. The one thing he couldn't give. He'd almost rather Kakarot demand to fuck him, as he'd originally thought was the younger Saiyan's intent, however preposterous it sounded.

"What do you want to know?" he snapped, tempted to just walk away. But Kakarot had paid for him, and like it or not, he had to do what he wanted.

Kakarot blinked, as if not expecting Vegeta to let him speak.

"What is..." he made a vague gesture encompassing the entirety of the surrounding area, "...what is... _this?_"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "It's a fucking strip club, Kakarot," he spat bluntly, "I would have thought you'd have figured out that much on your own."

"I know," Kakarot said, "but _why_ -?"

"Why am I here?" Vegeta interrupted harshly, "Why do I spend every night of the week just trying to amuse some perverts who come to watch me twirl like a princess for hours on end? Why do you _think_, Kakarot? Because I've got no fucking choice!"

Kakarot was silent for a moment.

"You do this for money. I know that. But why? You could have just asked someone for help, I would have helped you get back on your feet if money's what you needed."

"I don't have to come _crawling_ to you every time I'm unlucky," Vegeta snarled, "I can fend for myself."

"I know," Kakarot sighed, "Your pride won't allow it. But... it will allow _this?"_

"Yes. Because I'm doing something for myself. Because I can actually _accomplish_ something instead of begging for spare change like a pathetic weakling on the street. I don't need your pity, Kakarot; and I certainly don't need your help. And I've found I can stand on my own two feet without constantly leaning on your third-class shoulder."

"You wouldn't... you wouldn't rather do something else?"

Vegeta snorted, "Of course I would. But it could be a hell of a lot worse, and I've learned to count myself lucky instead of complain that it's not perfect."

Kakarot blinked slowly, "That's a really hard lesson to learn, Vegeta. Even _I_ had a tough time with it."

"Don't pretend to be impressed," Vegeta growled, "I know on the inside you're laughing at me. Go ahead and call me a slut like everyone else, I don't care."

"'Like everyone else'?" Kakarot echoed.

"I heard that scarred idiot calling the women here worse things than that," Vegeta muttered, "And the people who throw the money are no better. You think they come here because they're impressed by me?"

"I think they come here because you're special." Kakarot said sincerely.

Vegeta scowled, "Special? Who are you trying to fool? I make a living off of some simple, erotic acrobatics and the amount of layers I can peel off in an hour. I am _literally_ taking off my clothing for money. And if you ever wanted to sneer at me as I've done so often to you, now's your chance. You've finally caught me between a rock and a hard place, and I won't even try to defend my pride because _I've_ _got none left!"_

Kakarot just looked at him for a while, biting his lip thoughtfully, his black tail swishing. His eyes were sad, but the rest of him was just confused.

He opened his mouth after a moment, about to say something.

Vegeta cut him off impatiently, "Just go, Kakarot. Get out of here."

"But -" Kakarot protested.

"You can't change my mind, and you can't convince me that what I'm doing is wrong, because I already _know _ it's wrong. So just go."

"I can't do that Vegeta," Kakarot said slowly, "I paid for an hour of your time. It's hardly been fifteen minutes. And you can't kick me out because it's your job right now to do what I want."

Vegeta felt an angry wash of color flood his face. He'd never heard Kakarot speak so... calculatingly.

"What exactly do you want from me? More impossible answers to questions I don't want to hear?"

"Not exactly," Kakarot said, "I've seen what you can do, Vegeta, and much as you think I should belittle you for that, I don't."

"Don't -" Vegeta began.

"Let me finish," the taller Saiyan interrupted, "I think you've got a lot of talent, and whether I came here for answers or not, I can't help being a typical male any more than I can help being Saiyan."

"What are you -?" Vegeta growled.

Kakarot's tail thrashed and he took a slow step towards the prince.

"I know what I paid for tonight, Vegeta."

A chill ran down Vegeta's spine.

"Kakarot, have you lost what little of your mind you have left? What in the galaxies are you hinting at?"

"I've been waiting for a chance to do this for a long time," the younger Saiyan murmured, and Vegeta didn't have the chance to back away before Kakarot's lips closed over his.

X

It felt right. Goku ignored whatever doubts he had left and deepened the kiss, knowing Vegeta wouldn't push him away – if only because he'd be fired if he did.

He had never realized how big of a hole had been left in him since ChiChi's death until a small portion of it was filled just with the simple contact with the prince. He had never realized he was lonely until now.

Vegeta broke away eventually, part of him seemed angry, but part of him just seemed dejected.

"Going to humiliate me in the most complete sense, Kakarot?" he muttered. The tone of his voice sounded defeated, like he was giving up.

"No," Goku responded, "I'm going to show you what you've been missing."

He knew Vegeta was used to being alone. The prince had lived in solitude for much of his life. But when he had actually let someone in, actually decided to trust, he probably hadn't realized it but he'd changed. Bulma was a catalyst for him that turned him from a rogue loner of a prince into someone who actually cared, who actually felt loss and maybe even love. And when she was gone, he became something else. Cutting himself off from everyone and refusing to trust again. He didn't act any different than he had, but it was plain to see in his eyes how much it hurt him to be alone.

"Do what you want," Vegeta muttered, "I don't care anymore, and it's not my place to stop you."

Goku allowed a small smile and kissed the prince again, amazed at the freedom to do so. He didn't remember ever thinking of him as more than a rival, and then a comrade or a friend, but now... with the memory of said prince spinning on the pole, knowing what he could _do_... now it was different.

Tentatively, he spread a hand over Vegeta's chest, feeling the thrum of life and energy beneath his fingers as the bare skin came in contact with his. The prince flinched just slightly, and it occurred to Goku that he'd probably never done this before. Never let anyone...

Perhaps his skill with the pole was as far as his new talents extended. And mingled relief and confusion swept through Goku as he realized this. Relief because Vegeta hadn't been _used_ by a bunch of strangers preceding this moment, and confusion because... why was he allowing Goku to do this if he hadn't let anyone else?

X

Vegeta could not believe he was actually doing this. Actually letting another person – another _man_ – kiss him. Especially Kakarot. Gods, he hadn't kissed _anyone_ but Bulma before in his life; why now? Why Kakarot?

Much of the anger from before had faded, and Vegeta knew he wouldn't be able to take it if Kakarot insulted him now. It would be too deep of a betrayal.

But Kakarot seemed sincere, and he took it slow; his warm, full lips covering Vegeta's own, his hands around his waist loosely.

Vegeta opened his eyes after a moment, breaking the kiss despite an unexpected twinge of reluctance.

"Kakarot," he began, "This doesn't change anything, you know. However far you go with this, you can't make me change."

"I know," he said seriously, "I'm not trying to change you."

"Well then what do you want?"

He looked uncertain, and then smirked just slightly, "Whatever the hell I payed for."

"But you know what you -" Vegeta began.

"I payed for _you,_ Vegeta." he said, and for once the words didn't seem demeaning somehow, "You tell me."

TBC

_(( God, me and my sap. And again I'm typing in the middle of the night... no wait, it's 1:00; it's not night anymore. Sorry guys, but I can't write an intimacy scene after midnight, so you'll have to wait until next chapter. Hope this story makes at least a little sense!_

_-Shinsun))_


	3. Chapter 3

Gloves

Chapter 3 - Sugar Daddy

The floor wasn't exactly soft, but Vegeta disregarded that as Kakarot gently lay him on his back; sprawling across his waist and.. and _kissing_ him again. He didn't know why he got such pleasure from that, and somehow he felt he wasn't supposed to, but he did. Fuck pride. It didn't matter anymore, and he had next to none left anyway.

Kakarot's breathing was hot and ragged as he devoured Vegeta's lips, one hand stroking down Vegeta's thigh as his tail feathered along the bare skin behind his knee. He was gentle and slow, taking the time to explore and cherish. Vegeta doubted he'd get the same treatment from anyone else besides Kakarot, and for once he was actually glad that it was he who had requested Vegeta. Kakarot knew him. Knew his pride and his boundaries... and his limits.

One of Kakarot's strong hands smoothed down Vegeta's shin and calf, unzipping and peeling off the knee-high leather boot as it traveled. Vegeta lifted himself onto one elbow and removed the other boot, kicking it across the room and not caring where it fell. The tall Saiyan stole another burning kiss as he struggled out of his jeans, and broke the kiss only to toss his shirt over his head before reuniting their lips. All that separated Vegeta's straining arousal from Kakarot's naked flesh was less than an inch of skintight leather. But Kakarot paused, looking into Vegeta's eyes for a long moment. The younger Saiyan was absolutely shivering with desire; rough pants escaping his throat even as his erection pulsed against Vegeta's thigh.

"I.. never knew..." he murmured eventually.

"Never knew what?" Vegeta asked, tail stilling from its previous lashing.

"All this time..." Kakarot breathed, "I was so blind, Vegeta; why didn't you ever tell me you were so beautiful?"

Vegeta wasn't sure how to respond to that. And he had a feeling this was more than just a cheap fuck to Kakarot... but then what was it?

He couldn't deny that he wanted Kakarot now. But he assumed it was more a primal desire, just an animal lust that would spark in _anyone_ were they under such circumstances, and he would be lying if he tried to say Kakarot's physique was unappealing in any way. But the way Kakarot was looking at him... he couldn't describe it; it was something else... something _more_.

He didn't know what it was, but he wanted more and all of it.

The younger Saiyan seemed to snap out of a daze and he bent low, trailing his tongue down Vegeta's abdomen before scraping his teeth lightly against his lower waist and hip – a strangely erotic action that made Vegeta's arousal jump slightly with the pleasure. Taking the waistband of Vegeta's shorts in his teeth, Kakarot slid the clothing off skillfully, and Vegeta had to wonder where he'd learned that. He hadn't even known someone's mouth could be used like that.

Kakarot kissed his way back up Vegeta's leg, nipping gently here and there and flicking out his tongue occasionally. Vegeta couldn't remember when he'd started vocalizing his pleasure, but a drawn out moan escaped him as Kakarot sucked on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh; the younger Saiyan's tail brushing over the head of his erection just slightly.

Wasn't Vegeta supposed to be the one giving Kakarot the pleasure? After all, the tall Saiyan had payed for him, so...

But, he realized, he _was_ giving Kakarot a significant amount of pleasure without noticing it. Kakarot was panting heavily against his skin, trembling all over and hard as a rock, perspiring a hot effulgence of sweat. And it took him a moment to notice that Kakarot's low, soft vocalizations were not meaningless moans or incoherent sounds, but _words. _

"Ve...geta... more... you...nh... beau...tiful..." he murmured quietly, leaning up to capture Vegeta's lips again, his arousal lightly touching Vegeta's own. Vegeta couldn't silence a low groan, arching off the floor into the contact. Kakarot's tongue slipped between Vegeta's lips, and he felt more than heard the appreciative moan the younger Saiyan released against his mouth. Then Kakarot shifted slightly, and rocked his hips against Vegeta's, the friction making them both gasp. Vegeta gripped Kakarot's shoulders, feeling like he needed to brace against something or else disappear... or sink into the floor.

Kakarot grasped one of Vegeta's wrists lightly and started to take off his glove.

"Leave them on," Vegeta gasped between his teeth, still suffocating under the weight of sheer pleasure roaring through him. He didn't know why, but he felt insecure without his gloves guarding his hands. He was used to the thin layer of white leather separating his fingers from the outside world, and he felt a slight wash of relief as Kakarot conceded and left the gloves on.

Kakarot disconnected their lips for a moment, inserting two fingers in his own mouth, tail swishing with anticipation as he rolled the digits to coat them in saliva. Vegeta tensed as the hand dropped low and the wetted fingers began to circle his sensitive entrance. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he was obligated not to refuse either way. He'd heard the women complain of overzealous customers who had been rough and fast and had caused them pain or even made them bleed. The only thing that lent him comfort was that he trusted Kakarot. They'd both been through too much together _not_ to trust each other. And he was fairly certain that Kakarot wouldn't do anything to hurt him.

Vegeta inhaled sharply as one of Kakarot's fingers slowly invaded him; the sensation was strange, but not painful. The digit probed for a moment before a second joined it. Both thrust a few times, almost as if they were searching...

A sound suspiciously close to a wail tore from Vegeta's throat as Kakarot's fingers touched something sensitive, causing a lightning-esque shock of pleasure to zing up his spine. His back arched further as Kakarot massaged the area, a whole new spectrum of sensations exploding behind his eyelids as he threw his head back and howled a plea for more.

Kakarot's fingers withdrew, and Vegeta moaned his dismay at the loss of contact. He could hear Kakarot's breathing, jagged and rapid with what sounded like excitement.

And he came undone with a what was nearly a scream as the hardness of Kakarot's arousal pressed into him.

X

Goku was sure he was going to die. No one could feel this much pleasure without blowing into a million pieces, could they? The sheer heat and pressure of Vegeta surrounding him as he slid forward slowly was enough to draw an almost desperate moan from his throat; and he faltered slightly with surprise only because he hadn't ever made such a sound before.

He paused to catch his breath and give Vegeta a moment to adjust, and then thrust with agonizing slowness, refusing to just slam in blindly and possibly hurt the prince. He leaned up to cover Vegeta's mouth with his own as he thrust again, positive he was going to either melt or be ripped apart by the sensation. The taste of the prince, a taste he never thought he'd indulge in – one he didn't even know he _wanted _ this badly – was a drug; something he simply couldn't get enough of. And he was amazed that Vegeta could be this responsive, this _willing_, to something he himself hadn't even _considered_ until tonight.

And _gods,_ Vegeta was beautiful. There was just no other word for him. How had Goku missed this all these years? How had he not been struck dumb and drooling upon their first meeting by how gorgeous the prince was? His flawless honey bronze skin broken here and there by battle scars that did not detract from his elegance, his chiseled musculature, ebon eyes and dark flame of satin hair... he was the dictionary definition of beauty.

Vegeta was incoherent, and he moaned and begged without words as Goku increased the speed of his movement, expelling jagged breaths and shaking to his very bones. Sweating had a whole new meaning now, and Goku was absolutely drenched in it; it dripped from the ends of his hair and ran down his spine in rivulets as he hammered into the prince, striving for completion along with him.

Vegeta tensed suddenly, his voice choking off as his whole body locked on the precipice of orgasm. Then the prince screamed as he came hard; a raw, passionate sound that had Goku teetering on the edge just listening to him. He thrust once more, feeling his own vision flicker white as he followed Vegeta's release a second behind, biting off a shout as he emptied himself inside the prince.

X

Vegeta lay there. A minute? An hour? How long did it take to come back down from such an intense orgasm? He didn't know.

Kakarot slid out of him gently, stealing a final, brief kiss before he got to his feet. Vegeta stood as well, slightly unsteady.

Reality caught up with him slowly with the ache beginning to blossom where Kakarot had pounded into him. An hour had almost passed. An hour of literally bought time for a meaningless fuck that would be forgotten tomorrow. Kakarot glanced at him over his shoulder. The tall Saiyan pulled on his jeans before edging over to him, looking almost concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He sounded so honest... but how honest could someone be when they were willing to slap some dollar bills on a counter for a quick fuck with a stripper who had once been their arch rival?

"Go away, Kakarot. You got what you paid for, now leave." Vegeta muttered, trying to summon what was left of his dignity as he slipped his shorts back on.

The younger Saiyan almost looked hurt.

"That didn't... that didn't mean _anything _to you?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"You paid to fuck me, and that's what I gave you; now _leave._"

Now Kakarot _definitely_ looked hurt. He hung his head, his tail drooping on the floor behind him.

"I thought... I thought I was making love to you..." he murmured, almost to quietly to hear.

Vegeta blinked, perplexed. He'd heard the term before, but he didn't know what... Didn't someone have to be _in_ love to _make_ love?

"What do you...?" Vegeta trailed off, utterly confused.

"If it makes any difference... it meant something to _me_," Kakarot said.

"Kakarot, this is a -" Vegeta began.

"I know," he interrupted, tail lashing once, "But it's not like I came in here and banged the first stripper I laid eyes on," his voice was almost a growl, and Vegeta was a bit startled by his language, "I _know_ you. I... I _care_ about you, and... I still want to help you if I can."

Vegeta turned his back on him sharply, frustrated, "There's nothing you can do."

"I could..." he fell silent, and Vegeta could almost hear him arranging his thoughts, eventually he just grit out a curse and snarled, "Look, if it didn't mean anything to you, just say so so I can stop torturing myself, but if it _did_ mean something... I would be willing... that is... I could help... I could pay..."

Slowly, Vegeta turned back around to look at him.

"I could come back... if... if you want, and..." the younger Saiyan muttered, and Vegeta could see the flush coloring his cheeks with embarrassment.

"Kakarot?" Vegeta asked, confused again. He'd heard of certain people here who were regulars, and even some who only came for one person, but what Kakarot was suggesting was different. Unless Vegeta was mistaken, Kakarot was suggesting that he could return and do this again. That Vegeta would have to do this _only_ with Kakarot.

He liked the sound of that.

Vegeta was pretty sure he was going to be forced to accept requests either way from now on, based on his boss's threats... but if he _only_ had to accept Kakarot...

That was infinitely better than giving himself to whoever decided they had the balls to ask.

And maybe …. maybe he felt that way because it _did_ mean something to him. It was a simple matter of fact. He trusted Kakarot. He didn't trust the other idiots that came here to stare and hoot and masturbate and whatever other crap they did.

Kakarot had turned, about to walk away dejectedly, probably thinking Vegeta would deny him.

"Wait," Vegeta blurted, "Kakarot, I accept your offer."

Kakarot whirled around, disbelief slapped on his face.

"R-really?" he stammered.

He nodded with as much conviction as he could muster. He could try to deny it, but he had enjoyed himself exponentially tonight. Wherever Kakarot had learned to do what he had, he was damn good at it. And Vegeta found he wouldn't mind doing it again. In fact, he might look forward to it.

X

Goku left into the cold winter night with a smile on his face. He might not have convinced Vegeta to leave and quit this disturbing excuse for a job, but he had at least found a way to help him. And therefore he could leave with a relatively clear conscience.

He hadn't been lying, when he said he had been making love to the prince. He didn't like to think of it as just sex, and he definitely didn't like to think of it as fucking. It was worth more than that. _Vegeta_ was worth more than that.

Goku stopped in his tracks.

He drew a shaky breath as he examined the way he'd thought of the prince as he worshipped him before, the way he'd seen him and what he felt... for him...

"Oh my gods," he breathed as realization crashed over him.

He was _in love_ with Vegeta.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Gloves

Chapter 4 – Dodging The Bullet

Vegeta opened the door to Capsule Corp and staggered inside. It was almost midday, and he'd been out all night... obviously. The soreness from hours of spinning and flipping and from the... _private audience_ with Kakarot was finally setting in, and he was glad he'd changed into some more appropriate and comfortable clothes back when he had the energy to do so. He doubted he could even lift his arms all the way over his head right now without pain.

Even with the dull ache settling over his body, he was pleased with himself. For once. The wad of cash in his jacket pocket was significantly heavier than it had been in a long time, mostly thanks to Kakarot's contribution... he never thought he'd see the day when _Kakarot_ was essentially paying _him,_ but it was an interesting prospect.

Almost immediately, he was greeted by Trunks. _I swear, every time I leave him for two seconds, he grows another inch, _he thought. The boy could meet Vegeta's eye levelly without standing on his toes anymore, and it wouldn't be long before he had to look _down_ on his father. He'd also grown his hair out again – Vegeta wondered why he hadn't noticed until now - and he'd have to tie it back in a ponytail if it got much longer. It already hung in his face as it was.

"Hey Dad," he said cheerfully. Vegeta mumbled something that could pass for a reply and sat down in one of the armchairs in the living room, sighing as some of the tension in his muscles left.

Trunks tilted his head to one side, eyebrows furrowed slightly over bright blue eyes. Vegeta knew that look; he wanted to ask something but was afraid of sounding foolish.

"Dad... uh..." he began, stammering, "I... uh... "

"What?" Vegeta muttered.

"Well... I'm going to be sixteen next week, and I... that is, Goten and some of my friends asked if I could hang out with them today. You know, to celebrate early... so I was wondering if... if I could..."

Vegeta blinked. Trunks was nearly sixteen years old already? Where did the time go? And what exactly was he trying to ask?

"...If I could maybe have a little money so I could go somewhere with them for the day?" Trunks finished, looking embarrassed. He knew Vegeta would usually either say no or say he couldn't afford it right now, and he must have been surprised at his father's response.

"Sure," Vegeta said, fishing a small stack of bills out of his pocket and pressing them into his son's hand.

Trunks's eyes lit up, "Thanks, Dad."

Vegeta nodded and let his eyes close as he leaned back. He heard his teenage son's cheery goodbye as he left and the sound of the door shutting behind him. He was just glad Trunks didn't ask where he'd gotten the extra cash. He really didn't want to have to lie on top of everything else.

X

Goku sat down heavily at the table upon entering the house. Goten was out with Trunks and some of their buddies for the day, and Gohan was never around anymore. He mostly stayed with Videl these days since they got married. So Goku was alone with his thoughts.

He braced his forehead against his hands, elbows against the table, and ran his fingers frustratedly through his hair.

How had he suddenly fallen in love with Vegeta? Was it a new thing after seeing him dance last night, or had it... always been there? He couldn't guess.

He couldn't get the prince out of his head. His rippling grace as he twirled on the pole to a throbbing backbeat playing in the background, his sexy, pouting lips and burning, passionate eyes. The flare of heat as their skin touched, his breathless gasps and ragged pleas for more as he writhed beneath Goku and...

Goku expelled a slow breath as his jeans suddenly became tighter across the crotch.

That was attraction. He could admit that much easily.

But there was just something _more _about this. It was a depth of caring, of wanting to help the prince and maybe see him smile, rare as it was. He just wanted to hold his hand and kiss him and be with him and tell him in gushing detail how amazing he was.

But he doubted he'd get to do that. What he had would have to suffice, and he should count himself lucky he even got that much.

Vegeta wouldn't have to wait long for Goku to make good on his offer, though... and next time he might pay for more than just an hour.

Goku stood, flicking a kink out of his tail. Deep thought like this was deserving of some food; and he shouldn't try to think on an empty stomach anyway.

X

Nowadays, Vegeta slept a lot more during the day than he did at night. In fact, he slept a lot more, period. He had never really been much of a nocturnal creature before, but for almost two years now he'd had to reorganize his Saiyan metabolism and internal schedule to suit his everyday life. And he'd learned a valuable technique to anyone who has pulled all-nighter's for weeks on end. The Power Nap.

And so from noon until nearly sunset, the prince of all Saiyans was out cold in an almost comatose sleep.

Trunks was still gone when he awoke, which didn't strike him as odd. Trunks was usually out late, and when he was out with friends it could be past midnight before he returned.

Vegeta stretched slowly, reveling in the pleasant pop of rested muscles down his shoulders and spine, all the way to the last vertebra of his tail.

A quick bite to eat, and then it was time to train.

Surprisingly, even two years after Bulma's death, the Gravity Room was still up and running and fully functional. Now and again it would break down or would be smashed up a bit too much to run normally, but Vegeta had learned fast how to fix the minor problems since he didn't have the time or money to replace anything or get a professional to do it. One attempt to fix a problem with the controls a while back had resulted in the entire control panel going up in flames, and it had taken the combined efforts of the singed prince and both his son and Kakarot's youngest to put the blaze out and correct the damage.

Now though, he just knew not to take the training too rough and to tune up the machine early and often.

With the gravity up to a few hundred times that of Earth, Vegeta flew through a light workout, getting his head back in the game and stretching out his muscles. He barely broke a sweat for the first half hour, and just savored the moment of physical effort for his own benefit, rather than for the amusement of others. It really cleared his mind; and for a while he was the undisputed, proud prince he'd been born to be. Nothing more, and nothing less.

After an hour, he exited the Gravity Chamber, wiping the light perspiration from his forehead and neck, and headed outside; feeling refreshed and alert.

The sun was almost down, but he still had things to do.

Vegeta used to complain about buying food. He used to grumble when Bulma sent him to the store that it was ridiculous and about how, as a prince, he should have other people doing it _for_ him. But now, when he didn't have the woman's budget to fall back on if he slipped up, he realized just how important it was. And he'd turned it into a challenge of sorts. It took a lot of rationalizing to calculate the cost of things versus how much they were needed and how much he had to spend. And if he spent any more time figuring out _exactly_ how much he was allowed to buy per day, he wouldn't have time to do much else. That was just how his brain worked, though. At least nowadays. Turn it into a game; then you won't realize how stressful it is.

One grocery list later, he returned to Capsule Corp, sampled some of what he'd bought, and took a shower.

He had to be fresh for work tonight.

X

Goku spent almost the entire day sparring with Piccolo. The Namekian was a reasonable opponent; nothing on Vegeta of course, but Goku actually had to put up an effort to fight him. Not because Piccolo's strength was anything to sneeze at compared to Goku's – it wasn't – but he had a cutting-edge cleverness that made him intimidating and a formidable fighter. And he actually tried, unlike most of Goku's friends these days.

And afterwards; battered, sweaty, and completely rejuvenated, Goku headed for home as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The weather was fair, for winter, and while the light faded faster and faster each day, there wasn't a speck of snow to be spoke of yet.

Goten was there when he returned, as the stars were just winking into the sky.

"Hey son," Goku greeted his youngest, "Did you and Trunks have fun?"

The teen nodded distractedly, "Yeah, we got dinner somewhere and had an early birthday celebration for him. Then we just hung out, but he seemed kind of... troubled after a while."

"Troubled?" Goku echoed.

"Mhm. I don't know, it's none of my business." Goten muttered.

"Hm," Goku said, heading upstairs to change out of his tattered training gear.

He didn't dwell much on Goten's talk, though. He had more important matters in mind.

Like what he was going to wear when he went so see Vegeta tonight.

X

"Damn it all," Vegeta cursed. He stood, half-dressed, in the upstairs bedroom, struggling and failing to buckle the woven leather belt around his waist. The form-fitting black jeans were perfect, it was just the belt that was rebellious.

Saiyan strength was apparently not supposed to mix with such a task, though, and the belt broke in two with a sharp snap under the pressure it was under.

"Shit!" Vegeta snarled, incinerating the now-useless strips of leather in a blast of yellow ki, leaving not even ash behind.

Now he had to start all over again trying to find something to wear. His options grew more and more limited as incidents like this became common. And he wasn't allowed to just wear the same thing every time. Apparently it wasn't "good for business".

Like Vegeta gave half a damn about business. All he cared about was not making an idiot of himself in the one thing he couldn't afford to be an idiot in.

Luckily, two years of this crap had given Vegeta more than a little experience, and he'd actually developed a fashion sense over time... much to his initial horror.

Tossing the black jeans that had adorned his legs for all of two seconds across the room, Vegeta muttered to himself irritatedly as he slipped on a pair of skintight leather pants; allowing them to ride low on his hips and give off the sexy, creased shine that only leather can give. A navy blue shirt that clung just slightly and a pair of weathered work boots that cast an almost carelessly simple mood. Nothing to detract attention from what was important.

He remembered what the man in charge had said about people wanting to see _more_ of him... and he figured it was best that he didn't wear anything too expensive or flashy, as he'd just have to shed it sooner or later, and there was no guarantee of him getting it back. He glanced at himself in the mirror briefly, wondering when exactly he'd started caring about all this nonsense.

He grabbed his jacket and was about to head out when he bumped into Trunks. Praying his nerves didn't show on his face, he started to step around his son, but Trunks stopped him.

"I have to go to work, Trunks." he muttered, hoping not to raise any suspicion with the casual statement. Trunks knew he worked at night, he just didn't know _what_ he did.

"Can you explain something first?" the teenager asked.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled dollar bill, which he smoothed and showed to Vegeta.

Vegeta's heart skipped in pure, abject, deer-in-the-headlights terror.

It was one of the bills he'd given to Trunks earlier today. And scrawled across it in black marker were three lines of numbers with dashes in between. A phone number.

Vegeta could only think of one reason why a person would write a phone number on a dollar bill, which didn't leave a lot of room for doubt if Trunks was able to read between the lines. And he might have put two and two together with the fact that his father worked so late every night.

Vegeta swallowed, hoping Trunks was only suspicious, and not accusing.

"I can explain," he forced out, cursing how strained his voice sounded.

Trunks crossed his arms, tapping the dollar against his wrist, "I'm listening."

"It's a... a security code," Vegeta lied, hoping he could outwit Trunks but knowing it was a long shot.

Trunks raised an eyebrow, "You're sure about that?"

"Yes." He forced himself to sound like his usual commanding, princely self.

He waited for Trunks to shrug and walk away or say "well that's a relief"... waited for him to do _something._

Trunks looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

There was uncertainty in his blue eyes, and Vegeta latched onto that.

_It is just a guess,_ he felt a sweeping wash of relief, _he's waiting for me to admit to something. Maybe I was wrong thinking he'd know what it meant. Most teenagers don't._

"Yeah Trunks, I know." he muttered._ Not this. I would gladly tell you anything but this._

Finally Trunks's interrogating gaze lifted and he handed the dollar to Vegeta with the shadow of a shrug.

"Just... next time don't give me graffitied money, okay?" he said lightly, "The cashier wouldn't take it."

Vegeta nodded and watched his son walk away.

He breathed a long sigh of relief, folding the offending dollar between his fingers. He hadn't been sure he'd be able to dodge that bullet, and he'd have to be more careful from now on, or he wouldn't be able to explain away another one.

TBC

_((Yes, I gave the chapters titles now. I just couldn't think of them beforehand. And I just now learned about the phone-number-dollar thing, and I thought it would be interesting to add it in._

_I'll update again soon, thanks for all the nice reviews!_

_-Shinsun))_


	5. Chapter 5

Gloves

Chapter 5 –Static V

Vegeta took a deep breath, shaking off his nerves quickly, and stepped into the dusky room. The throbbing music reached him first, like it usually did, and as his eyes adjusted to the semi-dark and pulsating colored lights, he was already rehearsing in his head how to coordinate movement with the sound.

Several people were already gathered here; but whether they were dancing or paying, their eyes turned to Vegeta as he entered. He stood tall – well, relatively tall... - and flicked his tail in a suggestive slash, smirking and slipping out of his jacket as he stepped up on the raised platform where he "worked". It was easy to appear confident here, especially because people came just for that. And donning a not-so-genuine smile required no special skill.

Vegeta left the jacket on the edge of the platform, hoping no one would steal it, and half-turned his back on the watching people, glancing over his shoulder coyly and rippling his tail with the slow sway of his hips. Several appreciative sounds came from the gathered audience, either because they'd been here before and knew what Vegeta could do, or because they just liked what they saw.

Still watching them over his shoulder and still smirking, Vegeta ran a hand through his own hair, then trailed it down his neck and chest with a feather-light touch, slowly undulating his hips with the pulse of the music. He hooked the hand under the hem of his shirt and slid it off gradually, never ceasing his movement. Someone hooted something vulgar from the back of the room and Vegeta turned to face them; but rather than snarl as he would under any other circumstance, he jutted out his lower lip slightly in a pout/smirk and braced a hand on his hip. He fingered the dark blue shirt he'd removed, and then let it drop to the floor. He toed off his boots and stepped back slowly, still swaying his hips just to keep in rhythm.

Clad in nothing but his leather leggings and white gloves, Vegeta stood next to the vertical steel pole and contemplated where to begin. Some of the women in skimpy bikinis were already dancing and teasing, and some already had reaped a reward in the form of dollar bills trapped between their round hips and the fabric of their panties. As his eyes roved over the crowd, Vegeta seduced the pole he was facing; stroking the length of his leg down one side and rolling his hips against it, just to keep the attention of those watching. His gaze snapped up as the door swung open.

And for the very first, but definitely not the last time, Vegeta was glad to see Kakarot enter the room.

X

The pulsing music was loud, but Goku's heartbeat was louder. The glow of the lights reflected off of every surface, and his eyes were immediately drawn to Vegeta. Somehow he just got more and more enthralling to look at every time Goku laid eyes on him, and he vowed silently that if this exchange between them didn't work out, he would be content just to _look_ at Vegeta for an eternity. Nothing more.

In the moment that their eyes met, there was a brief flash of understanding. And a light smirk graced the prince's face as he turned his gaze away again. His tail rippled for balance and he gripped the pole he faced at a little above eye-level. Taking a running step to the side, he leapt with almost impossible weightlessness and lost contact with the floor of the platform. He spiraled up the pole once in a breath-taking loop and dropping into a nearly disturbingly knowing pose; head thrown back, upside-down, his chin hardly two feet from the floor, spine arcuate and taut like a bow with one foot almost touching his forehead with the way his leg was bent, and the other leg extended, parallel to the pole. If he were human it would have been practically unfeasible, and Goku was transfixed.

Stumbling into a seat without taking his eyes from the prince, he leaned an arm against the table and just watched. No one was asking anything different of him, and he wanted nothing else. So he allowed himself to drink in the scene with an almost obsessional, rapt attention.

Vegeta's body snapped back like a jackknife and he scaled the pole in a series of rapid swirls, spinning back down again and catching himself before he hit the floor; flashing a glance meant solely for Goku and gliding all the way down, leaning his back against the pole and fluxing his hips sexually, lips slightly parted, head tipped back.

There was something different about him. The first time Goku had seen this, Vegeta had been seemingly unaware of his audience, going through the motions rapidly, but almost unfeelingly_._ Like he didn't even know what he was doing. Now... there was a _passion_ in his movement; he had someone to impress. And while the people around – male and female alike- whistled and hooted at the display, the dance was for Goku alone. And they both knew it.

The dollars fell like rain as the prince slid a hand below his own waistband, lowering it a little and baring the skin of his lower waist and part of the swell of one buttock. Over his shoulder, Vegeta shot Goku a smirk. And while his upturned mouth spoke amusement, a glimpse of the unease in his eyes showed Goku that in truth he was nervous as all hell.

Goku inclined his head in a short but encouraging nod, trying to restrain the desire from his face even if he couldn't restrain the trickle of heat to his groin at the erotic image. A flicker of barely perceptible relief showed in the prince's eyes for a moment, and Goku wondered why that was.

With his back still against the pole, Vegeta slid the tight leather pants down another inch, still rippling from head to toe in an endless river of sleek movement. Then he flipped -_without using either of his hands_ – upside-down again, supporting his weight with only his legs, crossed at the knee around the pole, but this time his chest was touching the length of steel rather than his spine. With one hand still at his waistline, he slid the leather leggings all the way off in one fluid stroke, letting them land lightly on the floor. If not for his black jockeys and his gloves, he would be completely naked.

Goku was conscious that his mouth was flooding with saliva at the sight, his eyes riveted. He would like nothing more than to banish the humans from the room and share a _different_ kind of dance with the prince, but he held himself still and banished the thought. _Patience._ He reminded himself, Y_ou'll get what you want soon enough._ _Let him work first._

Though with every muscle itching to stroke that perfect skin as Vegeta resumed exhibiting his stunning range of movement – now with less obstructive clothing blocking the view of all that glistening, lightly-tanned muscle and sinew – Goku wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to force himself to wait with such forbearance.

X

If Kakarot hadn't shown up, Vegeta doubted he would have done that. A measly clowder of humans drooling and waving dollar bills was hardly enough to persuade him to expose himself so. But the combination of the dropped hints from his "boss" and the confidence he gained from Kakarot's steadfast presence – though he had no idea why the third-class's being there influenced him at all – was.

The night was young, and Vegeta put his energy relentlessly into keeping the attention of his audience. It wasn't hard, most were already watching as if their eyeballs would drop out, and one man was even ignoring a skinny female dancing on his lap in favor of staring at Vegeta. Most of them snickered and howled like the immature ingrates they were, but... despite the drastic lack of clothing Vegeta was now sporting and the extra efforts in his performance, Kakarot alone remained silent. Vegeta blinked, halfway through a fluid Jade, upside-down; wasn't Kakarot interested? He was drumming his fingers against the table before him, still watching Vegeta raptly, but he seemed almost impatient somehow. Well, Vegeta would just have to try harder to get a response from him. He didn't know why it mattered, but he at least wanted to see an expression on the younger Saiyan's face.

He drew a quick breath and moved from an almost dangerous Karen to a Downsplits, flipping once and sliding into an extended Allegra, sweating from the effort. He heard several shouts of approval from the gathered people, and he suspected someone had either knocked over their chair or fallen out of it. He glanced at Kakarot, looking for a reaction.

Nothing.

Frustrated now, that even his best wasn't good enough, Vegeta growled against his teeth, adjusting his grip around the pole and flipping over again, attempting a move he'd never been good at. The Static V, or Reverse Ayesha, was a complicated position to reach, and even harder to hold during the pivot around the pole that gave it its reputation here as a wrist-breaker. Inhaling deeply, still upside-down, Vegeta tightened his grip with both hands, one leg hooked around the pole. Slowly, he extended both legs in a wide V, no part of his body except his hands touching the pole. Swinging around the pole gradually, he could feel his arms shaking subtly from the effort, not because it required a lot of strength to support his entire weight on little more than his wrists and elbows – he had more than enough strength– but because it was such an unnatural way for the joints to be locked. He expelled the breath he'd been holding as the swerving pivot was completed and he finished the maneuver with a light flip, dismounting from the bar and landing on his feet.

It was a strange variation of pride, the self-satisfaction that washed through Vegeta then. Just being able to do something he never had before, even in a profession that was perhaps unwise.

The look of unadulterated awe that washed across Kakarot's face was rewarding. And despite the fact that he wouldn't have given a damn whether Kakarot looked at him one way or the other before; under the bright aureole of the younger Saiyan's amazement, Vegeta glowed.

X

Vegeta was just incredible. Goku was having a harder and harder time keeping the lust and idolatry from his face as the prince's body moved in ways Goku hadn't known were possible. And speaking of things that were growing harder and harder, Goku was sure his jeans were going to cut off his circulation if they got any tighter, and he was finding no relief any time soon.

It was as if Vegeta knew exactly what Goku wanted to see; knew what he would find the most electrifying and enticing, and rolled it all together into one continuous stream of motion.

Vegeta paused, upside-down, a look of contemplation on his face. Gradually, his legs receded from the bar and split almost completely away from each other in a V. Goku could sense the effort the prince was putting up in his ki, and he was almost certain that Vegeta had either never done this one before, or he had tried more than once and failed in the past. Slowly, Vegeta's whole lower region rotated a hundred and eighty degrees around the fulcrums of his arms. Then his legs snapped together, vertical, and he flipped lightly off of the bar, landing perfectly.

This time Goku couldn't keep the awe off of his face, and he had a feeling Vegeta was very pleased with himself.

It had only been an hour or two since Goku stepped through the door tonight, but it had felt like an eternity waiting for the beautiful prince's undivided attentions.

But he knew it wouldn't be long before the wait was over.

TBC

_((Crappy ending. Ah, well... If you want to see the Jade, the Karen (Rubber Double Elbow) the Downsplits, the Allegra Extended and the Static V (Reverse Ayesha or Batman) in action, look them up on Pole Dance Dictionary. ...And someone asked what music I picture when I write these dancing scenes. I listened to _AMTRAC - "In Love" _and _Penguine Prison – "Worse It Gets"_ when I typed the first scene in Chapter 1, and _Poka – "99 Style"_, and _Siriusmo - "Idiologie" _while I typed this, so that's what I picture with the scenes I guess._

_Thanks for the reviews and the support, and sorry if any of this is below my usual standard. It was fun to write._

_-Shinsun))_


	6. Chapter 6

Gloves

Chapter 6 – My Prince

Vegeta kissed him. Goku's mouth dropped open in a gasp at the passion of his movement, and he was glad they were alone when said prince's hips ground against his, both of them already aroused and impatient. Vegeta's fiery tongue stroked along his, the pressure of teeth on his lower lip not quite a bite, but almost. Goku's eyes started to close with the pleasure flooding through him, but he didn't want to stop looking at the prince's beautiful face. _Gods, I just... I love him so much... I wish I could tell him, but... he'd probably just laugh at me._

He hadn't been aware of them backing up, but something solid bumped into his lower back, so they must have. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Vegeta had him backed against a table.

Breathing roughly, arms still wrapped around Goku's neck, Vegeta abruptly stopped, panting against his face; his gaze was on the floor. Goku studied his expression, perplexed. The prince's cheeks were flushed with pleasure, but also with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" he was surprised how ragged his voice sounded, but he still heard the note of concern, so the prince must have too.

Vegeta bit his own lip almost thoughtfully, "Sorry," he muttered. Goku could not believe Vegeta had just said that word out loud, much less _meant _ it.

"For what?" Why were they still talking? Their mouths had much more important things to do right now than talk.

Vegeta's head shook from side to side just slightly, as if frustrated with himself, "You paid for me, so you should be... I was... I was acting like..."

Oh. Vegeta thought it wasn't his place to take control. Did he think Goku would only be happy if the prince was submissive to him? Truth be told, Vegeta's commanding actions a moment ago had been turning him on exponentially, but... was that not how it was supposed to work?

Gently, Goku touched his lips to the prince's again, "You can... if you want..."

Something shifted in the shorter Saiyan's gaze, and he looked up at Goku with an expression that he couldn't describe.

"Are you sure?"

Goku thought about it, then nodded steadily, "I want you to."

_Make love to me... my prince._ He doubted Vegeta would see it that way, but it was a nice thought. He didn't know if Vegeta could ever return the feelings Goku had for him; to the prince, this was probably just a means to let off some tension and get some extra cash. Nothing else. But to Goku it was so much more. It didn't have a value that could be paid in dollars, but he'd give anything he had just for these stolen moments of passion with the person he didn't have a hope of being with otherwise.

Requited or not, he loved Vegeta, and that wasn't about to change.

X

Vegeta wasn't sure how to feel. Here was Kakarot, the man he'd sworn to defeat thousands of times, the man he'd tried time and time again to conquer... offering himself to him. But Vegeta knew he couldn't abuse that trust, much as the old grudge imprinted in his veins suggested he should. When Kakarot had... taken him... before, he was gentle and kind, giving Vegeta a new kind of pleasure he hadn't known he could feel.

And the least he could do would be to return the favor.

Pushing aside his conflicted thoughts, he leaned up and took possession of the taller Saiyan's mouth, hearing Kakarot's soft moan as he braced his hands against the table behind him to keep standing. Kakarot's tail was already lashing and giving off a heavy musk; Vegeta doubted the younger Saiyan was aware of it, he probably knew next to nothing about his tail, much less how to control its signals and scents. The prince allowed himself to inhale the seductive aroma; it had been a long time since he'd sampled purely Saiyan musk. The scent filled his senses and sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin, and he nipped lightly at Kakarot's lips, relishing the other Saiyan's breathless gasps against his mouth.

Vegeta removed Kakarot's shirt swiftly, exposing all that perfect, chiseled muscle; then dragged his tongue across the satin skin of the taller's broad chest, scraping a tautening nipple with his teeth ethereally. A sharp breath escaped the younger Saiyan's throat, and his eyes fluttered closed, head slightly tilted back, lips parted.

The prince smirked and released his tail from the tight rein of control he'd kept on it thus far, permitting it to spread his own royal musk in the air. Kakarot let out another jagged gasp, his arousal jerking against Vegeta's midsection as he breathed deeply of the scent. _I could get used to that expression on his face,_ Vegeta thought as he pressed their mouths together again. Who knew the prince of all Saiyans would so enjoy the flush of another man's cheeks, the pleading moans against his lips, the feel of another man's body pressed to his? Kakarot's tail flicked against his wrist and he captured the furry length gently, caressing it to the tip and ruffling the fur erotically.

"Ve-geta," Kakarot stammered against his mouth, an almost desperate tone in his voice.

The prince gave one last stroke along that lush, dark tail, coordinated with an equally sexual stroke with his tongue against Kakarot's before responding, "Yes, Kakarrrrot?" He loved the r's rolling so smoothly from his chest in a deep purr.

"Vegeta," Kakarot gasped, breathing hard, "... If you don't... stop teasing me soon... I'm going to come..."

Vegeta smirked, "Be patient, Kakarot."

Kakarot made a frustrated sound close to a whimper and his dark tail thrashed in desperation, "P-please..._please_..."

Vegeta didn't know how many long years he'd waited to hear Kakarot beg him like that. Of course, he'd imagined it as begging for mercy as he was about to deliver the killing blow, but...

Who was he to deny such pleading?

X

Goku was shaking, barely able to stand; his jeans were entirely too tight, and had been for over two hours since he got here tonight. He wanted Vegeta. He wanted him _now. _

He sucked in a sharp breath as the prince's hands landed on the waistband of his jeans, fingers hooking underneath to brush the skin of his hips before sliding the pants down a few notches. Vegeta leaned up and nipped the lobe of Goku's ear, trailing biting kisses down his jaw and the side of his throat as he peeled Goku's confining pants from him. Goku's spine arched dangerously against the table behind him as something soft as satin brushed against the head of his now-freed arousal, a groan that tore all the way up from his toes escaping him at the sensation. He could feel Vegeta's hot mouth tormenting his already taut nipples, his gloved hands skittering down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, his tail feathering over his aching desire.

"Ve..." he began, his voice sounded strained, "V...geta... please..."

The prince's breath steamed on his face and Vegeta connected their lips for a moment, "Lean back, Kakarot." he murmured.

Doubting the table's stability, Goku did as he said; the wood felt cold against his back, but it soon warmed with the heat radiating from his skin. He heard Vegeta mutter something, and he cried out, startled, as something wet and slick circled his entrance. He assumed the prince was using some kind of oil, but he couldn't see what he was doing from here. He flinched as an oiled finger invaded him, bearing in gradually with no apparent destination in mind. Goku doubted Vegeta had done this before, only had it done _to_ him by Goku himself, and he was glad he hadn't needed to explain the importance of preparing someone beforehand to avoid pain and friction. Glad Vegeta could infer that much for himself.

A second finger joined the first, then a third, all three spread and stretched experimentally for a few moments, and one pressed against that one amazing spot completely by accident. Goku couldn't hold in a shout, a jolt of pleasure slicing through him as he arched off the table slightly.

He could feel Vegeta's questioning gaze, "What is it?" he queried, probing the area again as Goku's back bowed further under the lightning bolts of ecstasy shooting through him at the tentative, almost virginal touch.

"P-prostate," Goku choked out, sure that he could come right now without too much prompting.

Vegeta apparently decided to torture him some more and massaged the sweet spot a few times before the fingers withdrew. Goku waited in breathless anticipation, and released a shuddering moan as he was entered slowly. He could hear Vegeta breathing through his teeth, shaking slightly with the effort of holding himself back as he seated himself fully. Back on familiar ground, the prince drew back gradually before thrusting once, a smooth, slow stroke that made Goku shiver. Raw desire pulsed from him, but he had a feeling Vegeta wasn't used to the lack of restraint at his fingertips. The prince was moving in short, shallow thrusts, as if afraid to hurt or lose control.

"Harder," Goku forced out, flicking his tail along Vegeta's thigh.

Vegeta grit out a wordless response and slammed in once, a gasp tearing audibly from his throat as Goku cried out, his legs wrapping around the slighter Saiyan's waist to draw him in deeper. He heard the crackle of energy as Vegeta ascended, and a ragged shout burst from his throat as the prince thrust deep, the sheer power and energy of the movement enough to bring Goku to the brink of something that fell between ecstasy and insanity. Vegeta's pace was reckless now, and just as both Saiyan's were nearing climax, there came an almighty _crack_, and the table Goku's full weight and Vegeta's leverage had been supported on collapsed in a shower of splinters and a groan of protesting wood as it crumbled. Both Saiyans fell several feet amid the ruins and landed in the same interlocked position on the floor between the broken halves of the ravaged table. This destruction of property was completely disregarded as Goku tensed, his mind going blank like a slate as his orgasm roared through him, Vegeta following a second behind with a shout that reverberated off the fortunately soundproofed walls around them.

X

Vegeta was bleeding. Some of the splintering wood had cut his arm and face, but he was too relaxed in the afterglow of orgasm to care. He knew Kakarot would be the worse off, since more of his body was in contact with the table as it broke, and he'd had the further to fall since nothing had been supporting him except the piece of furniture that was now completely worthless. The prince winced as he glanced at the mangled slabs of wood around him. He would probably have to pay for that, and property damage wasn't something he could really afford to pay for.

He felt soft, warm lips pressed to his neck, and glanced at Kakarot who was kissing his jugular lightly. Vegeta glanced at the clock; the younger Saiyan still had nine minutes, apparently he wanted to make them count.

"Can nothing satisfy you, Kakarot?" he muttered, leaning away from the contact and getting to his feet, registering the wince that crossed Kakarot's face as he pulled out of him.

"Sure it can," Kakarot said, standing as well and staggering a step before regaining his balance, "I'm more than satisfied, I just like to kiss you."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he dressed himself absently, "Why's that?"

He knew the younger Saiyan desired him, but _why_ , he didn't have a clue. He wasn't looking for flattery, though. He genuinely wanted to know what the hell it was about him that Kakarot liked so much. By all rights, he should be ashamed of Vegeta for the way he spent his weeknights and what he did for money... but he wasn't. In fact, he seemed to desire the prince even _more_ for it.

Now Kakarot looked nervous, and he shifted from foot to foot as he pulled on his jeans.

"I l-" he began, then blinked and seemed to think better of whatever he'd been about to say, "I just l-like to kiss you." he reiterated somewhat lamely.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged and threw on his jacket, biting back a gasp of discomfort as his shoulder protested the movement. He was totally worn out. Again. He really needed a better way to balance this; he couldn't go home exhausted every morning and sleep all day, only to work and struggle to satisfy Kakarot's bottomless desire all night.

"Hey, Vegeta?" Kakarot asked eventually, shrugging on his form-fitting black T-shirt. When exactly did he stop wearing that hideous orange gi all the time? His current attire was almost... sexy. Had Vegeta just never noticed until now, or...?

"What?" he responded shortly, remembering Kakarot had asked a question.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, so... you won't have to work, right?" there was something very like hope in his voice.

"That I will not," Vegeta said. There were some here that worked the whole week, weekends included; but Vegeta was lucky enough to get two days off every week, which was a welcome break from his upside-down schedule, "Why do you ask?"

"Because I was wondering if you wanted to..." Kakarot visibly faltered and his tail lashed once, "To spar or something," there was an indecisive – or perhaps regretful- glint in his black eyes, "Piccolo's not much of an opponent, and the weather's been nice enough, not that I mind training in the snow if it..."

Vegeta cut off his rambling shortly, "Whatever, Kakarot. If I find I have the time on my hands to beat your ass into the ground, I'll stop by, alright?"

A very, very small smile graced the taller Saiyan's lips, "Alright."

Kakarot didn't seem all that pleased by the prospect, though he did seem pleased by Vegeta's agreeing. And Vegeta had to wonder what he'd been about to say back there. It wasn't the first time in this conversation that he'd broken off and changed the subject nervously.

_What are you hiding, Kakarot?_

X

_Shit._ Goku collapsed on his bed, both from exhaustion and the sheer weight of the emotional baggage he carried. Soreness was settling over him - both along his back and thighs where he'd been cut multiple times with crumbling wood from the breaking table, and the dull ache between his legs where Vegeta had found his pleasure in him. He was glad he could give Vegeta that. But he'd come far _far_ too close to screwing this whole thing up at least three times today. He had come damn close to admitting he loved Vegeta – of course, he had admitted it mentally, but not _to _ the prince himself – and had probably made him at least a little suspicious with his hesitation and stammering.

He tried to imagine it from the prince's perspective. Vegeta was a single parent, who had never really been a parent before and had hardly even learned what that meant before all the responsibility was shoved on his shoulders when Bulma passed away. He did what he could to support what was left of his family, and he must have been reluctant to let anyone in, especially someone who had been his arch rival in the not-so-distant past. Of course, Vegeta didn't seem to think Goku was an idiot anymore... at least not as much as he had before... but still. He only obliged Goku so willingly because it was his job. He needed the money, and if the only way to get it was to have sex with his one-time enemy, he must have seen his options as limited. Goku would have been happy to hand him the money he needed and take nothing in return, but the prince needed to feel like he was earning it; like he said, he wouldn't allow himself to beg.

And now that Goku had experienced what he had... he wasn't willing to let it go. He felt he needed Vegeta now. Needed to see him and be with him and at least _know _ he was there when so many of his human friends wouldn't be for long. He needed the prince in his life, and he was a little startled how fast that need had arose; it had been little more than a day since he'd admitted to himself that he was in love with Vegeta. He was also startled by how _fierce_ that need was. Like he'd kill anyone who touched his prince.

_His_ prince.

My _prince._

….._I am in so much trouble._

TBC

_((Had to make Vegeta seme. According to my sister they don't "switch" enough in my fanfictions. Oh well. It was still fun to write, but I would have liked to write it a little later than I did. _

_Ah, Vegeta's getting suspicious... also: expect some drama from Yamcha and Krillin soon; remember, they were the ones who found out about Vegeta's "night job" in the first place. *evil grin*_

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always._

_-Shinsun))_


	7. Chapter 7

Gloves

Chapter 7 – Unwise Encounters

Goku was looking forward to sparring with Vegeta today. Of course, he always looked forward to sparring, that was Saiyan psychology, but there was something special about sparring with the prince. Especially now that Goku knew him on a different, more intimate, level.

He had slept badly. In the remainder of the night that he'd had left, that is. Confused dreams, conflicted dreams, had haunted him that night. He couldn't decipher them, but he knew they had been damn strange.

He was about to head out and was starting to pull on his boot when there came a knock on the door. Blinking in confusion, Goku slipped on his other boot and opened the door.

"Hey Yamcha," he greeted the former Z fighter with a grin, "What brings you here?"

His smile was not returned, but Goku didn't find this unusual. These days Yamcha was a little bi-polar and it was hard to predict his moods, ever since Puar and Bulma had passed away. Especially Bulma. Goku knew Yamcha had been in love with Bulma for a long time, and he must have seen her death as cruel to him, particularly because she belonged to another when she died. To _Vegeta_, no less; Yamcha never disguised his resentment towards the prince.

Nonetheless, Yamcha was still a good friend of Goku's, and he invited the scarred ex-fighter inside with his usual friendly attitude.

"Thanks for the offer, Goku, but I can't stay long," Yamcha muttered, not moving from where he stood, "I just wanted to talk for a minute."

Goku's good mood didn't falter, his smile persisting, "What about?"

"About Vegeta." Yamcha said bluntly.

Now _that_ made Goku waver slightly, and his hand instinctively reached behind his head in a gesture of confusion. He only ever did that around his old friends; and it had taken him a long time to realize it was actually a placating motion.

"What... what do you mean?" he stammered, trying not to look guilty; he had _nothing_ to be guilty about! He hadn't done anything wrong.

"Remember what I told you about seeing that prick in a strip club?"

Goku forced his tail fur to lie flat as the insult reached his ears, suppressing a growl.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Well... that was kind of true..." Yamcha muttered, as if he was sure Goku hadn't believed him.

"I know," Goku stated, "I saw him."

"And you haven't done anything about it?" he sounded startled.

Goku shrugged, "Like what? Force him to quit? You know no one can _make_ Vegeta do anything, and it's really none of your business what he does anyway."

"It is my business if I'm trying to enjoy a night off and he's there burning my eyeballs out with his public displays of nudity." Yamcha snapped.

There were several things wrong with that statement, Goku thought. First of all, Yamcha could enjoy a night off in a much better fashion than visiting a strip club. Second, Vegeta very rarely exposed himself more than was necessary for the job, and even if he _did,_ he didn't _flaunt_ it or anything.

"I don't see what the problem is here, Yamcha," Goku muttered, "If you don't like it, you could just look away or go somewhere else."

"You're _defending_ him?" Yamcha's voice had risen to almost a shout, and Goku was tempted to ask him to leave, but he doubted anything good would come of that.

"He isn't doing anything wrong," Goku said patiently, "He's just supporting his son and keeping his wife's business from shutting down. His intentions are in the right place."

"Goku," Yamcha said slowly, as if Goku was missing a huge point somewhere in this conversation, "I don't think you get it. Vegeta. Is. A._ Stripper._"

"I know," Goku said, slightly confused, "I told you, I saw him. I know what he's doing, but I don't see why you think it's such a bad thing. I'm glad he's found something he's good at to pay his bills, he could be doing something a _lot_ worse."

A look that fell somewhere between shock and revulsion crawled over Yamcha's face and his mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he spoke.

"You... Goku, are you _sleeping_ _with_ that whore?"

Goku tensed; Yamcha's tone was almost painful to hear, but he wouldn't allow him to insult his prince like that.

"Vegeta is not a _whore_," he objected, tail snapping in the air behind him, "Don't let me hear you calling him that again."

"You _are!_" the scarred fighter sounded outraged, "No wonder you took his side; you're _fucking_ the little bastard!"

"Yamcha, stop," Goku fought to control his voice, but it still sounded like a growl.

"I knew you weren't the brightest person on Earth, Goku, but I didn't think even you could be that _stupid_! That's just... It's sick, it's disgusting, how could you even -?"

A snarl shuddered from Goku's throat and his hand shot out to grab the front of Yamcha's shirt, bringing them nose to nose.

"Stupid, am I?" Goku spat, Yamcha cringed under his smoldering gaze but he didn't relent, "Would you like me to define that word for you? You seem mistaken in its definition,"

He didn't wait for a response before he went on, his tone slicing, "Stupid is getting worked up over something that doesn't affect you in the slightest. Stupid is crawling over to me like a pathetic insect complaining and bleating on about something your immature puny little mind can't accept. _Stupid_ is insulting someone infinitely stronger than you... in front of someone else who is also," his grip tightened on the human's shirt and he knew his eyes were flashing blue with rage, "_Infinitely. Stronger. Than. You."_

If Yamcha's face were to get any paler, he'd surely pass out. Goku almost smirked with a sense of grim amusement. People always seemed to forget that when they spoke to him, they were speaking to a Saiyan, bred for battle and killing, who could snap their neck effortlessly like a toothpick if he got upset.

"Now." Goku continued, his voice like the blade of a knife, "Apologize."

"I'm s-sorry," Yamcha pleaded, white as a sheet and shaking, "I'm sorry for c-calling you stupid."

"Good," Goku said icily, "Now apologize for calling Vegeta a whore."

At first Yamcha didn't say anything, stubbornly silent though still obviously terrified.

Goku's snarl returned full-force, his lips completely drawing away from his teeth as he bore down on the pathetic human, his hair flashing to gold as lightning eddied across his skin.

Yamcha squeaked, "I – I'm sorry!" he sobbed, "I'm sorry for calling him a whore, now please let me go!"

Goku snorted in disgust and released Yamcha's shirt, his tail – still golden like his hair – thrashing in irritation. He powered down and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the human tremble and cower before him. His lip curled in something between distaste and amusement as he scented that the moron had wet himself.

X

Vegeta landed a fair distance away of Kakarot's house, a little unsure about this. He knew the other Saiyan liked to spar, all Saiyans did, but... there was something about the way he'd asked... it made Vegeta edgy for some reason. Kakarot was hiding something, that much he knew for certain. And he hadn't seen the taller Saiyan when the intent was a simple spar and not a dance or a fuck since... well, since he'd been caught three days ago. He wasn't sure how he'd react when around the person whose body he knew inside and out now... much less how _Kakarot_ would react when around _him. _Would they treat each other any differently? Were they _supposed _to?

As he got closer, Vegeta realized the younger Saiyan wasn't alone. The ki signal of the idiot Yamcha was also present, and upon further inspection, the prince detected the fetid scent of fear that was only slightly stale. Kakarot's ki was unusually high – at least for his everyday power level – and there was an edge to it that spoke of intense anger that hadn't faded, only been suppressed.

"Vegeta," Kakarot greeted him levelly when he approached. A flick of the black tail, a short inclination of the head, nothing more.

Vegeta nodded in response and his gaze landed on Yamcha. The odor of urine bit at his nostrils and he almost smirked; the idiot had been scared senseless relatively recently, he wondered if Kakarot had anything to do with it.

He noticed Yamcha was averting his gaze, and that Kakarot's glare was fixed entirely on the human in question.

Finally Kakarot just growled dangerously, "No need to bite your tongue, Yamcha. If you're going to say something, then say it."

The scarred human paled and shook his head quickly, "N-no sir,"

Vegeta blinked. '_Sir?_ ' What the hell had Kakarot done to shake the idiot up this badly?

"Kakarot, I believe I promised you a spar... should we... reschedule?" the prince said eventually, a little uncertain about this snarling, angry Kakarot.

Yamcha hid a snort behind his hand, his terror apparently forgotten in the moment.

"What's funny?" Vegeta muttered.

"'Spar'? Is that what you're calling it these days?"

Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Well obviously you're just going to be fucki-" the idiot began audaciously.

Vegeta caught a glimpse of a blur and heard a sharp _crack_ and a yelp; the human flinched and then doubled over in agony. It took him a moment to realize Kakarot had slapped Yamcha across the face... and had broken the idiot's jaw in doing so.

"I thought I made myself clear," Kakarot snarled at the human, who was gingerly feeling his twisted jaw and groaning in pain, "Apparently not."

There was a second's silence except for the low whimper issuing from the human.

Kakarot scowled, "Get out of here, Yamcha, I can't stand to look at you right now without wanting to kill something. Get a senzu from Korin or something, and don't complain because I gave you what you well and good deserved. You're lucky I was merciful."

The idiot didn't have to be told twice, and he scrambled away as quickly as his puny human legs could manage, mumbling slurred curses through a mouth full of blood.

"Kakarot...?" Vegeta asked tentatively.

Kakarot exhaled slowly, his black eyes losing much of the rage from before as he visibly relaxed.

"Sorry Vegeta, you didn't need to see that."

"I've never seen you like that before, what the hell happened?"

The younger Saiyan's long black tail swished once, "He was out of line. _Way_ out."

"What did he say?" Curiosity edged his voice, despite the princely portion of his mind that suggested he drop it and forget about it.

"He called you a..." Kakarot broke off, his ki quietly simmering with lingering anger.

Vegeta sighed, understanding rushing through him even if the other Saiyan's statement was incomplete. Apparently the scarred idiot knew of his night activities, and apparently he didn't approve. He couldn't say he was very bothered by this, the human's opinion wasn't something he particularly cared about; but he could see that it had made Kakarot unhappy, and for some reason that made him unhappy as well. Why did he even care what Kakarot felt? The younger Saiyan was his rival, Vegeta shouldn't care about such things.

Shaking off the thoughts, Vegeta turned back to the taller Saiyan.

"Kakarot do you still wish to spar? I can return another time," _When you're not in such a black mood,_ he thought hesitantly.

Instantly, the other Saiyan's expression lit up, "No, stay. I'm always up for a spar with the Prince of All Saiyans."

Vegeta couldn't help but smirk. Same old Kakarot.

X

Hours passed and the two Saiyans beat the ever-loving shit out of each other. Goku felt relief sing through his muscles as he vented his frustration and anger on the one person able to take it all and still demand more. One thing bothered Goku though; Vegeta was treating him the exact same way he always did. He didn't know why, but he'd somehow expected there to be some kind of change between them since they'd gotten to know each other a bit more... _deeply_.

_Don't know why I got my hopes so high_, he thought as he went on the offensive, delivering a quick punch to the prince's face, which he dodged, _Of course he's the same old Vegeta, what was I expecting?_

Every time he got within striking distance of the prince he felt short of breath and his heart started beating rapidly; it had nothing to do with exertion, he was simply nervous around Vegeta. He wanted to continue the spar, but he also wanted to stop and take the prince in his arms and kiss him and...

He wrestled the thought down and forbid it from resurfacing.

At last, both of them exhausted, beaten, bloody and covered in sweat and dust, the final blow ended the spar. Goku went down hard, jarring his teeth as he crashed into the ground, leaving a small crater. He probably could have gotten back up, but he was tired and bleeding, his body protesting every time he tried to move. He decided to stay down and call it a day.

Vegeta touched down not far away, his black gaze scanning over Goku, as if making sure he was still alive. Goku struggled to sit up, gritting his teeth as several broken ribs made their abuse known through a stinging ache throughout his chest.

"Are you alright, Kakarot?" his sparring partner asked.

Goku's breath hitched, Vegeta actually sounded _concerned. _The prince's face was near his own, those endless black eyes searching calculatingly. In a daze, Goku leaned forward, his eyes slipping closed as their lips connected briefly.

Vegeta broke away after less than a second.

"Kakarot," he began, sounding disapproving.

Goku looked at his ex-rival, studying the planes of his face; the slight flush of embarrassment across his royal cheeks, which were smudged with dirt and blood, a dark bruise on one cheek and a trickle of blood running down from his lower lip. Without thinking, Goku closed the space between them again and tasted that tiny line of red blood, taking Vegeta's soft bottom lip into his mouth as he did.

"Kakarot." Vegeta repeated, more insistent this time as he stood and looked down at Goku, an unknown emotion sparking in his eyes, "What are you doing?"

Goku blinked, feeling for all the world like the idiot he was always accused of being.

"Kissing you?" he tried, attempting to say something the prince wanted to hear.

"Why?" Vegeta said shortly, his chestnut tail flicking once.

Goku sighed, he was going to have to say it sometime.

"I l- I love you, Vegeta." A huge weight soared off of his shoulders with the confession, and for a moment he was glad he said it.

But when he looked back at the prince's eyes, the moment passed and he regretted it a million times over. Vegeta was angry, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, tail lashing.

"Wh... why are you mad?" Goku asked slowly, standing up, "You weren't mad when we... before..."

Vegeta exhaled sharply, almost like a laugh, but not quite, "While you may think it's romantic to pay a greasy man at a desk to allow you to fuck me in a strip club, Kakarot, I, certainly, do _not._"

"You think..." Goku began, "You think I only love you because of...? Vegeta, I enjoy being with you thoroughly and those nights with you were amazing, but I love you for bigger reasons than that."

Those coal eyes flashed dangerously, "Why then?" Vegeta snapped.

"Because..." Goku trailed off. He had a lot of reasons, but none came immediately to mind. He loved Vegeta, but it was hard to explain why, "You're strong," Vegeta started to say something but he cut him off, "I don't mean physical strength, though yours is incredible. But your determination and willpower are what make you strong, I admire that about you. Your intelligence is fascinating, your confidence is inspiring. Your spirit..." he paused for a long moment, allowing himself to look at Vegeta and see nothing but his soul, everything amazing within him that made him such a rare beauty, "...You're beautiful." he murmured at last.

Vegeta closed his eyes, seeming to draw on a well of patience. Goku could tell he wasn't quite convinced, but the line of anger between his eyebrows had faded mostly.

"Flattery aside," the prince began in monotone, "Kakarot," his eyes opened and Goku was surprised to see the precursors of what might have been _tears_ there, "Even if you mean what you say, I cannot return the sentiment."

Goku remembered to breathe, "Why?"

"I can't," Vegeta's breath caught slightly and he turned away, but not before Goku saw the glimmer of tears spill down his cheeks, "It would be the death of me... I cannot bring myself... to love... another... Never again..."

Understanding slashed through Goku so hard that it hurt.

"Oh..." he breathed, "You're talking about Bulma..."

The proud prince was silent for a moment. He did not turn around, but Goku could hear how his breathing shook every time he inhaled.

"Yes-s," there was a quaver in his voice as he spoke, and he still stood with his back to Goku, his tail low with sorrow, but lashing with confusion. Vegeta was reluctant to admit to having emotions, much less let them show; but he was a very passionate person, yet another trait Goku absolutely loved about him.

"When she..." the prince broke off and began again, "When she d-died... when she left... left me... I couldn't... the pain was so crippling... I c- I could barely stand it... I felt like I was going to... to die as well... And every night I woke up alone I would... I would break down and cry until I wondered if my ribs would break..."

Goku was amazed Vegeta had even said this much, and he hung on every word, heartbreaking though they were.

"I..." Vegeta sighed and continued, his voice slightly steadier, "I trained my heart after that. I forced myself to forget it, to tell myself I didn't need it... and after what felt like years the pain finally subsided." He at last turned to look at Goku, and while his eyes were now dry, they were like holes of loss and despair, "I can't go through that again. If I…. if I never let myself fall in love, I won't have to hurt anymore. I can't... It would kill me."

Beneath the sorrow and determination of the words, Goku found the barest trace of fear. Vegeta was afraid. Afraid of the pain of losing, afraid of forgetting the lessons he'd learned through suffering and tears... and the biggest fear in the prince's eyes - one that caused sympathy and hope to rise in Goku's chest simultaneously as he studied it – was the fear that he already had. That he already had begun to fall and wouldn't be able to stop it if his heart decided to betray him.

TBC

_((Sorry I haven't updated this story in so long. I've been a bit preoccupied with seven... no EIGHT stories currently in progress (one's not even a fanfiction, but an actual story) and I've got school in two days which means my updating's gonna be slow anyway. Also I've been beta reading two stories (one is a really awesome Soncest by TheTwentyTwo btw, if that's your thing, go check it out) so... yeah. Sorry. I don't know about you, but I think this chapter is pretty damn deep._

_Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing._

_-Shinsun))_


	8. Chapter 8

Gloves

Chapter 8 – Conflicted Thoughts

_Why, Kakarot?_ Vegeta thought as he looked at the taller Saiyan, trying futilely to suppress his remembered sadness; it wouldn't do him any good here, _Why me? Why did you have to fall in love with me?_

He was a little surprised he hadn't demeaned Kakarot for that. Actually, he was a little surprised he hadn't been all that startled by Kakarot's confession. Almost as if he'd expected it. As if it had always been there.

But he meant what he said; he could not love Kakarot back. Absolutely could not. He hated to tell Kakarot this, knowing the younger Saiyan would take it like rejection. But as he thought harder about it, he knew he had no choice; he could not go through that torment again, and his world was complicated enough as it was without the conflict of _that_ depth of emotion.

Another part of him knew Kakarot deserved more, in any case. Someone so pure and powerful deserved all the love in the world, much more than Vegeta could possibly give him.

_What in the gods' names could I offer? _ He thought ruefully, _A crownless prince, the forgotten heir to a dead throne of a dead race; a pathetic widower, a failure, a fucking stripper... I have nothing left. _

He cursed as his eyes filled with wretched tears again. Tears were weakness, and he couldn't stand to be any weaker than he already knew he was. He growled and swiped the moisture away, slowly meeting Kakarot's steady gaze. The younger Saiyan was looking at him with something between sympathy and pity, and Vegeta wanted to slap the expression off of his face. He didn't need pity, he didn't want it. And the third-class excuse for a Saiyan had no right to sympathize with Vegeta. He didn't know anything; he didn't understand. He'd never understand.

Vegeta glanced at the droplets of the tears clinging to the fingers of his gloves. He held the hand out to Kakarot, wrestling with emotions that were much too complex for him to deal with.

"Do you see this, Kakarot? This weakness?" he snarled, "Do you understand why I can't be what you think I am? I _don't deserve_ you."

"Vegeta," Kakarot began, sounding reproachful.

"You think I'm so right for you and I'm being stubborn and stupid for denying it?" Vegeta snapped, "You think you know what I am, who I am, what I've become?"

Kakarot opened his mouth to say something, and Vegeta interrupted angrily.

"You don't. You're wrong. You've got the wrong person, Kakarot. I'm not... I'm not what you think I am. I am sadistic, I am violent, I am a failure, I am worthless,"

"You are no such thing -" Kakarot protested, but Vegeta cut him off.

"I am a _murderer,_ I have killed thousands, and enjoyed it. I have no conscience... and you say I have changed so much and become something better... You're wrong. I've sunk so low I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. I have been called a whore, a slut, a prostitute, and the _gods_ alone know what else..."

"Vegeta..." Kakarot murmured.

Vegeta grit his teeth and glared upon his fellow Saiyan, "I'm wrong for you, Kakarot. I'm everything wrong for you."

Before he could further attempt to get Kakarot to see what he saw, or even blink; Kakarot took his face gently in his hands and the younger Saiyan's lips enclosed his.

"I don't care." Kakarot said fervently, tracing a hand lightly down Vegeta's jaw as he gazed into his eyes.

Vegeta didn't blink, "You should." he said quietly, "You should care."

Kakarot shook his head, "I've heard what you've said, and I understand it, I know what you _think _ I should think of you... but, Vegeta, it doesn't matter. None of it matters. I don't care if you think you're evil, or perverted, or worthless, or whatever you think you are. I've seen the truth, and I love what I see. I love _you_, Vegeta, even if you can't return it. And nothing you could say to try to put yourself down can change that."

Vegeta dropped his gaze to the ground, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Kakarot blinked, "For what?"

"For disappointing you," Vegeta said shortly, then he took to the sky, leaving Kakarot behind.

X

Goku sighed as the prince flew away. He should have guessed Vegeta would deny everything he said. He had a very fixated view of himself, and it had only gotten worse lately. He had relied on his pride for much of his reassurance, and now he felt he had nothing to be proud of anymore. Goku supposed he had reason to doubt himself; he'd been through more than his share of hardship, and it hadn't exactly lead him anywhere good. But he wished Vegeta would just understand that Goku loved him despite all that. Would just accept it, even if he couldn't give it in return. Vegeta just didn't believe anyone would feel something like that for him, after everything he'd done and what he'd become.

True, Goku had only admitted to loving Vegeta just days ago, but he'd always respected the prince, always admired his strength and his pride; his determination to keep going when things were hard. And maybe he had always felt something deeper for him. He had always sought him out, tried to befriend him, get close to him, understand him... had it always been about friendship? Or had it been more than that from the start?

Being with the prince in a more intimate instance hadn't been the cause of his love, it had been the channel through which he'd been able to see it. And apparently Vegeta hadn't seen the same thing.

...Or had he? Maybe he was just unable to admit it. The prince was notorious for hiding his true feelings and burying emotions beneath a mask of anger or indifference. But if he really didn't feel the same towards Goku...

Goku wasn't sure he'd be able to keep up this arrangement of theirs if there was no emotion behind it. If it was just sex to Vegeta, just a means for money, and if that was all it would ever be... Goku would not be able to accept it anymore. Much as he did love Vegeta, he wouldn't allow himself keep giving to someone who could never give back.

Even if he never saw Vegeta again, never spent a night with him again, he would love him from afar; but he had a feeling he would suffer more if he forced himself to keep getting close to the object of his affection and receive nothing from it.

X

Vegeta had no destination in mind, but he was halfway to West City when it started to rain. He landed on an outcropping of rock, the water pouring from the clouds drenching him, and his thoughts turned back to Kakarot – they had scarcely left him to begin with since Vegeta had departed, much as he tried to distract himself. He knew he had made him unhappy with his refusal, and when he left, but he couldn't bring himself to go back and apologize. It would be humiliating, and he would not, _could_ not, stand for it.

He was sure Kakarot would not understand why this could not continue. He couldn't look at the younger Saiyan, knowing what Kakarot felt for him, and still go about their arrangement like nothing had changed. The drop in payment would be a bother, the absence of the physical release an inconvenience, but he couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't engage himself intimately with Kakarot when he knew in the back of his mind that the other Saiyan was pining over his unrequited love for him.

Only when he'd returned to Capsule Corp amid the rain that was now coming down in sheets, Vegeta acknowledged that if he refused Kakarot when he inevitably came to call next time... he would be forced to accept others who requested him or else lose the only job he'd been able to keep this long.

X

A few days passed slowly. Goku wondered where the prince was, what he was doing... and if he'd thought anymore about what Goku had said. He hadn't gone to see Vegeta at all, afraid the prince would either accept him reluctantly and oblige him for money alone, or push him away and say he never wanted to see him again.

He wanted to give Vegeta time to think about it. But he was afraid if he waited too long, he would lose any initial chance he may have had.

He was a little surprised how quickly this had all happened. Just days ago he hadn't even known of Vegeta's night activities. And now... well, now he had no idea where he stood.

By the fourth day away from the prince, Goku's forbearance ran out. He had to know. He had to know if Vegeta was still angry with him, if he'd changed his mind, if anything between them had changed at all.

And so that night, he kept his nerves at bay as he entered the strip club he'd come to love and hate. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the pulsing lights, he swallowed his doubts for now. He would see Vegeta, and try to get some answers, just like the first time he'd come here.

His eyes scanned over the people gathered here, flitting over the skimpy dancers and boisterous audience like usual, searching for the prince.

A skinny blonde girl in a tiny bikini approached him, leaning against the wall next to him and curling a finger through her hair coyly.

"Can I help you?" she asked sensuously.

Ignoring her intent, Goku took the question as he would if someone asked him the same off the street.

"I'm looking for someone called Vegeta, do you know where he is?"

The girl's blue eyes narrowed slightly in what may have been irritation, "No idea. Hey Kasse!" she called across the room. A tall female with dark brown long hair looked up and walked over to where the blonde girl stood; Goku was thankful this one had more clothing on.

"Yeah?" the girl called Kasse asked coolly.

The blonde jerked a thumb in Goku's direction, " 'S looking for a guy called Vegeta. Help him out?"

Kasse scrutinized Goku for a moment. Goku sincerely wished he could just locate the prince and leave this uncomfortable company.

"Vegeta, Vegeta...hmmm..." Kasse said quietly, "Oh, I remember!"

"You know where he is?" Goku asked hopefully.

"Not necessarily," the brunette said smoothly.

"What do you mean?"

Kasse shrugged indifferently, "Got himself kicked out, didn't he? Got fired for refusing and threatening someone who requested him...'least that's what I heard... 'bout two days ago."

TBC

_((Augh, short chapters. Too much stuff crammed into too short of chapters. It's almost three a.m and I'm here attacking my keyboard because I haven't updated this story in almost a month. _

_So... sorry if this stuff seems rushed or makes no sense. I've still got a plot in mind, I'm just working up to it too quickly. But what else is new, this is me we're talking about. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate it._

_-Shinsun))_


	9. Chapter 9

Gloves

Chapter 9 – Hatred and the L-Word

Goku blinked, standing still for a moment as the woman Kasse's explanation caught up with him. Two things stuck out at him. One, Vegeta had actually gotten _fired._ There would be no more stolen nights with him, no more passionate, fiery dances or kisses that made his lips feel like they were burning. He figured he might have already blown that chance when he admitted to loving the prince, might have already screwed up the arrangement they had.

The second thing that stood out gave him a bit more pause. Vegeta had outright refused someone who had requested him. Apparently threatened them too, to the point of no return, getting thrown out of the only job he'd managed to keep thus far. _Why?_ Goku thought. _Why would he only accept me and no one else?_ _He knew he'd get in trouble if he said no to someone who asked for him, so why did he refuse?Why would he care?_

The two women standing next to him were looking at him with something that looked like diluted concern, probably because he'd been staring into space for about ten seconds.

He shook his head quickly to clear it for now, "Thanks," he said to the two girls, grateful for the information. With that he turned right around and rocketed into the sky, curiosity and foreboding eating at him as he flew for the ever-familiar ki signature of Vegeta.

X

Vegeta growled with frustration as he heard a knock on the door. He knew it was Kakarot, coming to him with more questions he didn't have the answers to.

_If he thinks he's going to get anything worth knowing out of me, he's got another thing coming._

The time for trusting his fellow Saiyan was behind him. In fact, he doubted he'd trust anyone anymore. Not since...

He shook off the thought and reluctantly opened the door to a rather winded Kakarot. He must have flown all the way here full-throttle without catching his breath. Vegeta wondered halfheartedly why he hadn't just teleported if he was in that much of a hurry to demand answers.

"Should have known," he muttered, turning and walking back inside without meeting the taller's eye, making a short gesture with his tail indicating for Kakarot to enter if he so chose.

And enter he did.

"Vegeta, what -?" he began, he was interrupted as Vegeta cut him off him sharply.

"Did you consider that I might not want to talk to anyone right now, least of all _you?_" he snapped.

He could just picture Kakarot's tail drooping dejectedly.

"I didn't think so," Vegeta sat down in an uncomfortable wooden chair, leaning an arm against the table in front of him.

There were a few seconds of silence.

"Vegeta, please," Kakarot said carefully, "Talk to me. I'm here on a half-assed explanation and I need to know what really happened."

Vegeta snorted bitterly, "Why do you care? It doesn't affect you either way."

"That's where you're wrong." Kakarot said.

Vegeta looked at him, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

Kakarot glanced around slowly, as if taking in the décor. Vegeta almost sneered. _What décor? _Since Bulma's passing, Capsule Corp had become rather plain. Vegeta had to wonder if it was a reflection of its current owner. Featureless and cold.

"What happened, Vegeta?" Kakarot asked finally, his dark tail swishing in question, "I heard you were fired because..."

"Because I wouldn't fall for blatant mockery from an asinine imbecile that wanted to make a fool of me?" Vegeta interrupted harshly.

Kakarot blinked, apparently that wasn't the response he expected.

"Mockery? What are you talking about?" he asked.

"What are_ you_ talking about?" Vegeta retorted, then hesitated. _How much did he hear? From whom?_

Kakarot just looked at him for a while, as if contemplating whether to pry further or leave him be.

Vegeta sighed and rested his face in his hands, hiding his eyes. He couldn't tell Kakarot what had happened. He wondered if it was because he didn't trust him, or because he was embarrassed. Probably some mix of the two, with some other unpleasant factors thrown into the mix as well.

Kakarot sat down across from Vegeta eventually, a few feet of cherry wood table separating them. Vegeta wondered absently why the younger Saiyan was so intent on dissecting every little thing that happened to him. Why he cared. Why he was... concerned.

_He said he loves me._ The thought – especially that little four-letter word – caused a dual reaction in Vegeta as it crossed his mind. A chill of unease and maybe fear down his spine, and a flitting pressure somewhere around his navel, almost as if he had large bats fluttering in his stomach. He wondered if the L-word did that to everyone.

"Vegeta...?" Kakarot asked after a long moment. Vegeta looked up, meeting the other's honest gaze.

"Please tell me what happened?" he pleaded, "I need to know."

Vegeta just looked at him for several seconds, his tail ticking against the leg of the chair he sat in.

_Can't go any further downhill than I already am, can I?_ He thought resignedly.

"Alright fine." he muttered.

X

As Vegeta prepared to tell his tale, Goku leaned forward with anticipation. It seemed something more serious had happened that the women at the club had neglected to mention. He was dying to know what.

"I suppose I should pick up where you left off," the prince muttered shortly, "After that day when you told me you..." he trailed off, as if the word were difficult – or impossible – for him to say right now.

"...Anyway, after that day, I tried to go back to how things were before. Trained. Worked. Ate and slept like usual. But there was no effort behind it... I felt numb."

Goku nodded absently, he knew exactly how that felt.

"I returned to work on Monday night like always," he went on, his gaze averting itself as he thought, "And I think I half-expected you to show up."

It was a conflicted thought, that Vegeta would be expecting him, maybe even wanting him to be there.

"But you didn't, so I just went through my usual routine; probably not as enthusiastically as I should have been, I didn't draw many eyes and my pay suffered for that... I didn't want to try too hard that night, I didn't feel up to it."

Goku could count all the times Vegeta had admitted he didn't feel up to doing something on one hand, and he didn't need all the fingers.

"I figured it was a bad day, and I'd just leave with a reduced profit once the night ran its course, but then of course fate had to throw me a splitter..."

Goku blinked, since when did Vegeta use baseball analogies?

"And I saw he... _he_ was there." The prince broke off, gritting his teeth.

"Who?" Goku asked quickly, curiosity brimming again.

Vegeta said something so quietly it was unintelligible. It was as if his throat had closed off eliminating his ability to speak. He coughed once and repeated himself.

"T-Trunks."

Goku stared, "_What?"_

Of all things, he had _not_ seen that particular twist coming.

"I panicked," Vegeta said, "At first because I knew he was not there by accident... and then I realized he'd been there for about five whole minutes. He'd seen me..."

Goku winced, imagining what a shocker that would be. For both of them.

"And _Trunks _requested you?" he asked, stunned.

An affronted look crossed Vegeta's face with something between a scowl and a look of shock, "What? No! By the gods, no!"

"Then...?" Goku prompted.

"Well he wasn't alone." Vegeta said in monotone.

For a moment he left that thought hanging, and a spike of impatience made Goku speak again.

"Gods, stop skirting around the edges Vegeta! What the hell happened?"

Vegeta's coal black eyes rolled irritably, "You can't tell a story end to beginning." he muttered.

Goku resisted the urge to fidget, waiting for the prince to continue with his tale.

Eventually Vegeta just growled, "Apparently that scarred son of a bitch decided my only son needed to know what his father did for a living." he said in an almost pained voice.

"You mean _Yamcha -?"_ Goku gasped.

"Brought my sixteen-year-old son right to that damn strip club and fucking pointed me out as if it wasn't enough." Vegeta snarled.

"And was Trunks...? Did he...?"

Something that sounded like a laugh devoid of all humor escaped Vegeta's throat, like a bark.

"Well that's actually the best part," he said bitterly, "Trunks wasn't surprised one iota... All the lies I told to keep him in the dark about it and he _knew the whole time._"

"He _knew?_" Goku yelped, astonished.

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" Vegeta snapped, "Well of course the scarred moron didn't like that. He wanted some kind of big reaction, so he walked right up to me and started talking shit."

"Like what?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again and shook his head, "I'd rather not relay everything. Suffice to say he hit several rather raw nerves."

"About Bulma?" Goku asked slowly, reading the look in the prince's dark eyes.

Vegeta almost smirked, "Nothing escapes your notice, does it Kakarot?" he sighed, "Yes, he ranted on quite a bit about her, but mostly about me. How much better he would have treated her if I hadn't come along and 'stolen' her from him. How she deserved better than a savage animal freak. How she allegedly confided to him about the lousy sex -"

"He _didn't _say that." Goku breathed. Gods, Yamcha had hit exactly where he knew it would make Vegeta bleed. He hadn't known the former fighter could be so cunning.

"Worse," Vegeta said, "He said worse things than that, and in front of Trunks too."

"And then what happened?"

Vegeta's glare faltered just slightly before returning with a vengeance, "Well he raised his voice so the whole place could hear him, and he got this greatly exaggerated tone of voice – I think he was making fun of you, actually -"

"Me?" Goku asked, confused.

"I think so. And he said..." he broke off.

"What? What did he say?"

Vegeta shook his head, "I c- I can't tell you."

"Why not?" A hint of anger colored Goku's voice.

Vegeta's eyes blazed, "Because you'd kill him if you heard it."

Goku blinked, "Tell me." he said without hesitation.

A slightly cruel look came across Vegeta's visage, as if he wanted to inflict the harm he was holding at bay with his silence. Eventually he just shrugged and raised his voice so that he sounded like an obnoxious, whiny, higher-pitched person. Goku started to feel offended once he realized the voice was a crude imitation of his own, and he could just picture Yamcha's expression as this tirade poured from him, directed at a semi-naked, shocked Vegeta.

" '_Oh, Vegeta, I was just passing by and wondered if you wanted to be _fucked into a counter_ any time soon? You know, just for the hell of it 'cause no one'll raise a hand against _perfect, heroic_ Goku! It's too bad we can't make any babies, but y'know, you kind of need a vagina for that... Unless you happen to have one stashed up there somewhere Your Highness...'"_

"Stop." Goku said through clenched teeth.

But Vegeta was on a role with his imitation, " '_...Of course if you had any balls you might actually be able to do something _useful_, but beggars can't be choosers! I guess I'll just settle for fucking you up your royal shithole until -'"_

"Vegeta, STOP!" Goku shouted. He wasn't aware of standing up, but he was on his feet suddenly, so he must have.

Vegeta fell silent, a look of trepidation coming into his eyes briefly.

Goku was trembling from head to foot, outrage roaring through his veins.

"That – bastard …. I'll kill him!" he snarled between his teeth.

Vegeta leaned his chair back on two legs carelessly, "Told you."

Eventually Goku forced himself to get a grip and sat down, though his hands were still shaking with suppressed fury.

"Anyhow," Vegeta muttered, "Trunks tried to call him off several times, but as you could hear, he rehearsed pretty well and nothing would stop him from thoroughly downgrading me in front of everyone who was there."

"And then...?" Goku asked, managing to sound calmer than before.

"Well he was jeering about how he wondered what the appeal was, wondered if I'd roll over for him if he payed to have me tied up at his feet..."

"So you threatened him?" Goku queried, remembering what the woman at the club had said.

"Not right at that moment, no," Vegeta said, letting his chair fall back to all four of its legs.

Goku waited for him to elaborate, but he was silent for a long while. Eventually he just sighed.

"Well you know, he tried the usual insults, like that he bet it wouldn't cost that much to own me for the night, that my so-called pride was even cheaper if I was willing to sell that for a fuck with -"

"Don't." Goku interrupted, not wanting to hear more of Yamcha's opinions of him.

"And when that didn't get a rise out of me, he brought out the big guns."

"'The big guns' being...?" Goku prompted.

Vegeta exhaled slowly, "He reached in his pocket and slapped a couple twenties on the table, right there on the platform where I'd been... performing... just a few minutes ago."  
"So _Yamcha_ was the one who requested you?" Goku demanded incredulously.

"In a sense," Vegeta said tersely, "Words weren't working for him, so he turned to actions."

"What did he do?"

"Right there, right in front of my son and everyone watching, he grabbed my tail and tried to force my pants down."

"He _did not!"_ Goku shouted, disbelievingly.

"Well by then I figured it out," Vegeta growled, "He was drunk, I could smell it on him. He had been the whole time, but he was still so idiotic he didn't seem that different at first."

"Did he...?" Goku began, not daring to finish the sentence.

"No, but no one stepped in to stop him either way... Not even Trunks, though I think he was more shocked than anything else."

"I'll bet." Goku muttered.

"I... I hate admitting it, you know that, but I was scared. I was nearly paralyzed with my tail in his grip and I could see the hatred and conniving mocking radiating from him. He wanted to humiliate me. Violate me. Make me feel..."

Goku nodded slowly. Yamcha wanted to make Vegeta feel what he'd felt all those years ago when Bulma left him for the prince. Cheated. Ashamed. Maybe even hurt. But the manner in which he'd taken those feelings out was... disgusting, to say the least.

He noticed that Vegeta had fallen silent again, a slight flush of anger and shame coloring his cheeks.

"So you stopped him?" Goku assumed, tail flicking.

Vegeta blinked once, "Yes. I had to, I would _not_ let that imbecile just -!"

"I know." Goku said, "What did you do?"

"Once I regained my powers of speech and swallowed the pain he was causing my tail you mean?" the prince snapped.

"Yeah."

"Shouted at him, mostly, kicked him away from me once he let go of my tail. I think at some point I repeated the word 'no' over and over, but it's kind of hazy, I was so furious."

"And then you were fired?"

"Sort of..."

Goku tilted his head slightly, "How do you get 'sort of ' fired?"

"Well, I was told I was fired... But not before I quit."

"You quit?"

He scowled, "What else was I going to do? I couldn't _stay there_ after everyone had seen what that bastard said and did to me."

"So now what? You're unemployed?"

The prince snorted, "I was never employed to begin with. 'Stripper' isn't generally something you write on a resume."

"You know what I mean."

He shrugged slightly, "I've got zero income, if that's what you mean."

"What about you and Trunks? You have to eat, don't you? And Capsule Corp would rack up a lot of bills, how can you -?"

"That's just it, Kakarot. I can't. Saiyans and the Earth-custom of 'jobs' don't mix. I was lucky to have what I had for two years. Now... I'm not unaccustomed to living in less than stellar conditions. I'll get by."

"What about Trunks, though?" Goku insisted, "He's still got school and he doesn't have a mom to care for him anymore -"

If possible, the hopeless look in Vegeta's eyes grew deeper, "I can't look him in the eye anymore. Not after... He knew all along and here I was trying to fool him. And that night... he saw that fucker Yamcha mocking me, sticking his hand down my pants, I can't bear to look at my only son after that."

"He's your _son,_ Vegeta. He won't blame you for -"

"Where do you get room to talk?" Vegeta snapped angrily, "Your sons idolize you, you didn't need to try to win their approval. You didn't have to lie to their faces because the truth would turn them away from you... Only to find out they _fucking knew_ the whole time! Until your precious sons see you at your lowest, brought down by a drunk idiot's words and fearing that you're about to be ra -" he cut himself off, but not before Goku caught what he was going to say. Yamcha wouldn't have _raped_ Vegeta, would he? There was no way he would be that heartless... and there was no way he was strong enough. But then... he'd had a tight hold on the prince's tail... he'd had Vegeta nearly helpless...

"Don't pretend to empathize with me, Kakarot." Vegeta said slowly, "We are not so alike as you'd believe us to be."

TBC

_((Up past midnight again. Well this chapter is finally a decent length, and it's like seventy percent dialogue... But I think it turned out okay. Believe it or not, this story is probably over halfway done right now. I'm thinking thirteen, fifteen chapters, something like that, unless I manage more._

_Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing._

_-Shinsun))_


	10. Chapter 10

Gloves

Chapter 10 - Bliss

Vegeta sighed and stood up from the table. He'd said a lot more than he had meant to... he hadn't intended to speak of that final straw concerning the imbecile Yamcha that had gotten him fired. He hadn't intended to go into that much detail, and he certainly hadn't intended to confess the fears that had been rushing through his head at the time... the fear that he wouldn't be able to defend himself, that his son would be there to witness him utterly humiliated and worthless... that the scarred idiot would make good on his threatening words and violate Vegeta completely. He could still hear the bastard's alcohol-laced words slicing at his ears as he clenched his tail forcefully in his grip... _'Not so tough now, huh?... Gonna spread your legs and beg for it like a little whore?... I doubt you're even good, Goku is so fucking easy to please...'_

An involuntary shiver skittered over the prince's skin and he crossed his arms as he stood. Trunks had heard every word too. That was probably the worst part. Not only had he found out about Kakarot's involvement from that idiot scar-face, but he'd heard it spoken in the cruelest way possible...

And now Kakarot knew how weak and useless Vegeta had been. He wasn't worth the taller warrior's attention, and he didn't want it either way. He felt tainted, ashamed; and Kakarot had an uncanny way of making even the worst situations appear to be not so bad. He didn't want his patronizing right now. He just wanted to be alone to nurse the wounded scraps of his pride, and maybe recover mentally enough to chase the bastard Yamcha down and rip out his cowardly spine with his bare hands.

"Vegeta?" Kakarot asked quietly from where he was sitting at the table, breaking into Vegeta's train of thought.

He grunted noncommittally, not in the mood to give an actual response.

"Please... don't give up so easily, it's not like you to quit..."

Vegeta scowled, "You don't know anything about me, Kakarot. Just stay out of it."

He heard the low sigh the other warrior released softly.

"Vegeta... since Bulma is gone..." he hesitated as if not wanting to broach that subject, "I think I'm the only one left who does know you... Inside and out."

"Is that supposed to be an innuendo?" Vegeta snapped.

"No, grow up!" Kakarot growled, sounding insulted, "I meant that..." his tone softened significantly, "I've seen what's in your heart, I feel like I understand the real you... and I wish you could see what I see... I wish you could know how amazing you are."

Vegeta fell silent for a long moment.

"...Why do you try so hard to make me out to be the hero?" he whispered defeatedly, turning to face the other Saiyan, "I've never been like that. I've never been like _you._.. And I'll bet if you had been in my position then – which you wouldn't ever be, because you're not a worthless piece of trash like I am – you would have done something noble and fixed the whole thing..."

"I doubt it," Kakarot sighed, "I'd probably have been terrified. To be under that much emotional strain, with someone putting me down right to my face in front of my son... I wouldn't have had the dignity you had to just take it without comment, only retaliating when it got physical. You're the noble one, Vegeta; not me."

Vegeta looked at the ground, "You overestimate my abilities, Kakarot. I only didn't respond at first because I was struck dumb, caught off guard."

"Vegeta, it doesn't matter -" Kakarot began.

"Just _stop it_!" Vegeta snarled, his hair flashing to gold angrily, "Stop pretending everything I do is so _fucking_ perfect! The only reason I was _in_ that situation at all was because I was too much of an incompetent lowlife to maintain something as asininely simple as an actual job! Bulma left everything to me, but she didn't stop to think that I had no idea how to run a business, a simple errand, or even a _family -!"_

He choked off, hiding his teal eyes as he felt treacherous tears welling up behind his eyelids again.

Kakarot was utterly silent... Once he'd managed to suppress the liquid weakness pooling in his tear ducts, Vegeta glanced up at the other Saiyan, a few scant feet away from him. He looked sad, frustrated, and another emotion for which he had no word.

The prince's golden tail slashed, "Just get out of here, Kakarot." he muttered.

Kakarot's tail flicked stubbornly, "You said the same thing to me the night I first saw your talents, remember? I didn't leave then, and I'm not about to now."

Vegeta snorted, "Talents? You're delusional, Kakarot. How many times do I have to tell you -"

"You're the one who's delusional," Kakarot murmured without heat, "I know skill when I see it, Vegeta, and you've really got something special."

"So I can do some erotic flips on a steel pole," Vegeta scoffed, "That's nothing special. And it won't do me any good from here on out. I'm never going back."

"But everything has _some_ purpose," Kakarot said reproachfully.

"What's the use of a dance except to bribe a crowd of human ingrates to cough up enough cash for a week's food?" the prince snapped.

Kakarot just looked at him for a few seconds, as if contemplating some unknown decision.

"How about..." he began uncertainly, "...To show someone how much you love them?"

Vegeta blinked, "...Wha -?" he began, utterly lost.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Kakarot extended a hand in a careful offer. He snorted, turning away and crossing his arms, and Kakarot sought out his gaze hesitantly.

"I love you, Vegeta." he breathed, as if to himself; and then he began to move. Slowly, tentatively as if afraid of making a mistake, he swayed his hips and ran an exploring hand down his own thigh, keeping his dark gaze fixed on the floor. He circled intricately around the prince's other side, out of his peripheral vision, and curiosity sparked in Vegeta's mind, despite himself. He turned to keep the taller Saiyan in sight, reluctantly intrigued.

_What are you doing, Kakarot?_

From then on, Kakarot's uncertainty melted away, and he became an entirely different person. He spun breathtakingly on one heel, encircling his arms around his shoulders as if embracing something invisible, beginning a one-sided, solo waltz-esque dance that was accented by graceful Saiyan agility. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted in a chaste expression of utter bliss, black bangs ribboning around his reposed face. His tail swished in slow, elegant spirals around his body as he stepped and pivoted rapidly in time with the silent music of his soul.

Vegeta could not help but stare.

_All this... for me?_

Kakarot spun rapidly, close to Vegeta, impossibly close; so close he could feel the air current from the movement brush past his skin, buffeting his hair which had faded back to dark long ago. He could see sweat pricking the tall warrior's brow as he delivered a sudden burst of passion to his movement, his head thrown back as he dropped to his knees, before catching himself and standing straight again, moving to the next sequence of his riveting dance.

And then his arms came into play, slashing and angling like an elaborate kata; was he cutting down invisible foes, or blocking assaults from an unseen attacker? Gradually, the quick movements that seemed to be deadly gestures began to carry a softer tone, melting into a new range of motion that caressed the air rather than scourging it.

Not once did he look at Vegeta, or even open his eyes, but the emphasis on the prince throughout the dance was clear. Every gesture, every outstretched reaching arm, or gazeless pleading expression was directed towards him.

_Gods, where did he learn how to...?_ Vegeta thought incredulously, following Kakarot's stunning movements with wide eyes, refusing to blink.

Quite suddenly, a look of anger - or anguish, or both – transformed Kakarot's face, and his dark hair bleached gold silently as a fiery explosion of motion poured from him, along with a stirring, soundless melody of emotion-laden ki. Dark skids of scorch marks appeared on the floor as he changed direction quickly; performing a beautiful, arcuate flip before landing on one hand. He pushed off the abused hardwood floor with his fingertips and spun one last time before stopping a few inches directly in front of Vegeta, panting for breath with his eyes still closed.

He couldn't react. It was as if his brain had completely jammed, grinding to a halt in the face of this side of Kakarot that he'd never seen.

And so, when Kakarot – eyes still closed – wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him; it didn't occur to him to actually refuse.

Kakarot's lips were soft and gentle, the contact not invasive, but there was an air of fervor just the same. Vegeta hesitantly added his own pressure to the kiss for a brief moment, startled to taste salt when he drew away unhurriedly. He blinked open his eyes to see traces of tears marking Kakarot's cheeks, a peaceful smile on his face.

_So this is what love looks like..._ Vegeta thought ambivalently.

X

Goku's eyes fluttered open eventually, and he lightly held Vegeta close to him, loose enough for the prince to slip away if he chose. He was a little surprised that he didn't.

He ran his fingers slowly through the prince's dark hair, amazed at the freedom to do so.

"All I want is you," he murmured quietly, feeling the whisper of eyelashes against his chest as Vegeta blinked, "I don't believe you if you think you're worthless, because you're worth everything to me."

Vegeta looked up at him uncertainly, illegible emotion written on his face.

"I love you more than anything in the universe," Goku whispered, cupping the prince's cheek in his hand, "Let me show you..." he broke off and began again, "...let me show you what that means."

Vegeta opened his mouth to say something, confusion in his eyes; and Goku touched a finger lightly to his lips to silence him, following the touch with a short, sweet kiss.

"Let me make love to you, my prince."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Gloves

Chapter 11 – Hope

Vegeta hesitated, uncertainty and nerves merging as he read the taller Saiyan's dark, liquid solder eyes.

"Kakarot...?" he began carefully, unsure why the other was being so forward. Why he still wanted Vegeta after... after what he'd told him.

_I'm not offering him anything... what could he possibly want from me? What could he gain?_

"Please..." Kakarot murmured, stroking a hand impossibly lightly down Vegeta's cheek, "Vegeta, let me show you how much I love you..."

Vegeta felt his knees weaken as Kakarot kissed him again, gently trapping his lower lip between his teeth as he pulled away.

He didn't allow himself to think; he was standing unsteadily by will alone, eyes closed, and he felt lightheaded with Kakarot's scent and the touch he could still feel lingering on his lips.

After a moment, he nodded shakily, his tail swishing restlessly at his side. He couldn't explain why he agreed, but some large part of him was desperate for Kakarot's touch, remembering distantly how alive and cherished the younger Saiyan had made him feel. Out of his bleak world of carefully constructed illusions and self-loathing. And if Kakarot still desired him, though he wasn't sure what was left to desire anymore, he wasn't about to refuse, even for the sake of pride. He doubted he had any left at all anyway.

_Just for a moment... I want to feel... like I matter to someone..._

He didn't protest as Kakarot guided him, bringing them to the sanctity of Capsule Corp's master bedroom. The younger Saiyan stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Vegeta with that emotion again... the one he could now classify as love, exposed nakedly in his eyes. Strong hands embraced him, and Kakarot's mouth found his, soft lips covering his own with a promise of tongue as the tall Saiyan lay him slowly on the mattress, breaking the kiss long enough to discard his own heavy boots over the side of the bed. Vegeta shivered as Kakarot leaned over him, nuzzling the side of his neck with a few murmured words scarcely more than a breath against his skin.

Vegeta's lips parted in a surprised gasp as their bodies pressed together, as he felt how hard the young Saiyan was already, hearing the breathless exhalations the other released as he thoroughly worshipped the delicate flesh of Vegeta's ear with his lips and tongue, licking the other shell and sucking on the lobe gently. Kakarot's hands slid down to cup Vegeta's hips, lightly brushing the lower hem of his spandex shirt and feathering over the skin of his stomach. Instinctively, Vegeta arched into the touch, infected by the achingly gentle ministrations of the other's fingertips; the contact of apprizing lips on the outermost edge of his ear tantalizing a quiet sound from him, not quite a moan.

"Kakarot..." he murmured, his tail curling with pleasure that he couldn't deny feeling.

Kakarot released a short, jagged breath, enclosing Vegeta's lips with his own, slipping his tongue inside as his hands lifted Vegeta's shirt, rolling it up his chest and disconnecting their lips to remove the garment and toss it aside. Vegeta's tail flicked involuntarily with a sense of anticipation, and Kakarot lightly stroked the furry length, instigating Vegeta to impulsively lean up and capture the other's lips. Kakarot moaned softly, delving into Vegeta's mouth with his tongue.

Vegeta panted as Kakarot lay nibbling kisses along his jaw and throat, his hands passing ethereally over the skin of his chest, causing Vegeta's nipples to tauten under the touch.

"Nnh," Kakarot whispered, licking the prince's collarbone slowly, "Vegeta... you are so amazing..."

Vegeta was sure he was overheating, and he could feel that he was growing painfully aroused, throbbing against Kakarot's thigh as the other knelt between his legs. As Kakarot shifted his weight, his leg moved against Vegeta's hardness – perhaps deliberately – and Vegeta grit his teeth to silence a groan building in his throat.

The younger Saiyan purred, giving Vegeta an all-too-brief kiss before sitting back and speaking three words in a husky, desire-laced tone.

"Dance for me," he asked; a question without a question mark, but not a command.

Vegeta moaned softly and did as he asked; his hips undulated slowly, fluidly, like a cresting wave, his tail swishing and curling; a sultry dance for Kakarot alone, recalling stolen moments in a dimly lit room with throbbing music and a steel pole. Kakarot shed his dark blue shirt and threw it over his shoulder, returning for a deep kiss without interfering with the continuous motion of the prince beneath him. His hands traveled down Vegeta's midsection to rest on the waistband of his spandex leggings, and he slowly slid the tight pants down his legs, aided by the dilatory fluxing of Vegeta's hips, drawing out the moment as lips moved together and tongues met and fought.

Vegeta's rhythm faltered and fell away as he felt Kakarot's tail brush against the base of his arousal, lightly curling around the length and stroking gradually. The satin fur and cherishing motion elicited a low groan against Kakarot's lips, and Kakarot broke away for a moment, a thread of saliva connecting their mouths briefly in the motion.

The younger Saiyan just looked at him, "Gods," he murmured, "I love you so much, Vegeta..."

With that, his tail resumed its caressing of Vegeta's erection and Kakarot pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans. A small tube, which he opened quickly, squeezing a fair amount of lubricant onto his fingers.

Though Vegeta's thoughts were fragmented at best right now, he had to wonder if Kakarot had had that with him the whole time, if he'd known the outcome of his coming here today beforehand. Could he really have been that perceptive?

Dropping the tube beside him on the bed, Kakarot sprawled across Vegeta's waist and devoured his mouth, his slick fingers tracing Vegeta's entrance slowly. Vegeta gasped for breath, overwhelmed by the furry tail stroking his arousal and the contact of the circling fingers. With his free hand, Kakarot grazed his fingertips against the inside of Vegeta's thigh, knowing and remembering from one time of experience where to find a sensitive area, and Vegeta couldn't silence a gritted out moan, arching off the mattress and closing his eyes.

One of Kakarot's fingers slid gradually into his entrance, then a second, stretching and searching, joined by a third digit after a moment. Vegeta choked a breath with a low groan as one touched the sweet spot within him, and Kakarot gently teased the area, pressing and massaging alternately. Vegeta gasped and panted at the almost painfully intense feelings, his tail slapping the bed once compulsively.

After a moment, the fingers receded, and Vegeta waited, keeping his eyes closed.

For a while, Kakarot didn't move, his tail stilled around Vegeta's erection, his lips absent from Vegeta's own. Vegeta's eyes flitted open in confusion, and he cried out as the head of Kakarot's arousal eased into him, but nothing more, the touch accompanied by a single, squeezing stroke of the strong tail around his aching desire, the sensations nearly excruciating. A pleading sound leapt unbidden from Vegeta's lips, and he was aware that he was trembling, needing more...

Kakarot leaned close, and though he didn't connect their lips as Vegeta expected, he could feel the younger Saiyan's hot breath on his neck. Slowly, ever so slowly, Kakarot thrust forward, his tail maintaining its pressurized stroking of Vegeta's arousal, coordinating with the agonizingly slow movement.

"Kakarot -" Vegeta broke off, shaking and throbbing, unable to bear it, "Please..." He hated saying that word, hated the way it tasted in his mouth, but he was desperate for Kakarot to deliver what he was promising...

Kakarot was silent, beginning a controlled pace, rolling his hips slowly against Vegeta's own. His mouth lowered to gently cover Vegeta's, his tongue caressing and exploring.

"Vegeetaah," Kakarot purred, breaking the kiss only to smother Vegeta's mouth with more, nipping at his lips as he thrust deeper, bringing wrenching groans and purrs from Vegeta as ecstasy washed through him with each driving movement of the other's hips. Incapable of speech, he pleaded wordlessly, managing something that sounded like Kakarot's name as the younger Saiyan increased his pace, stroking his arousal with his tail faster and fiercer as he attacked his mouth, breathing roughly through his nose and sweating profusely.

Vegeta felt a burning pressure gathering in his stomach, tightening as he felt his cock straining and leaking, and he clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his climax nearing.

Kakarot sank in deep, lightly biting Vegeta's lip, and Vegeta threw his head back with a shout, his orgasm crashing over him, and he heard the ragged groan Kakarot expelled as he came as well, spurts of hot liquid released in Vegeta's depths. Kakarot almost collapsed, and he gently withdrew from Vegeta before lying down next to him on his back, breathing hard even as Vegeta struggled to bring air into his lungs.

X

Goku closed his eyes as he attempted to slow his breathing, the soft, comfortable sheets beneath him a stark contrast to the rigid floorboards and fragments of table that he had lain on previously when he'd come down from cloud nine like this. It was almost enough to make him want to curl up right next to Vegeta and go to sleep. But he knew that – while physically they were both exerted and sated – there was still a lot of emotional damage to clear up before he could allow himself to rest.

"Vegeta..." he said slowly.

The prince didn't answer verbally, but his ebony eyes opened and looked at Goku with a tired inquiry.

"Was this a... one-time thing?" he asked uncertainly, trying to read the other's dark, satiated gaze.

"...I don't know." Vegeta said after a long moment; his voice sounded desiccate.

"Do you want it to be?" Goku pressed, leaning up on one elbow to look at him.

Vegeta's eyes closed again with finality, "Kakarot, I don't know."

"You don't know what you want?" Goku asked, brushing his tail against the prince's lightly.

"No." Vegeta said shortly.

Goku fell silent, knowing a dismissing response when he heard it.

"...Actually," Vegeta said after a while, "I would like to track that scarred idiot down and put a foot firmly up his ass."

Goku didn't resist the change of subject, "I won't stop you," he said, "I'd like to do much the same myself."

Vegeta blinked his eyes open, "I'm surprised at you, Kakarot. Normally you're not one to lust for violence."

"Only to those who've earned it," Goku replied, "And Yamcha has."

Vegeta sighed, "But it won't change anything. Whether I work up the nerve to punish the bastard or not, I'm still sunk either way."

"No you're not," Goku argued.

"When my next bill goes unpaid and I have to give up the house Bulma left me, I will have officially lost everything." he said flatly.

Goku fought back a growl of frustration, could Vegeta _not_ see that Goku had offered to help him more than once before and had all but paid the prince himself to help support him? If he could do that, surely he could help Vegeta now and get him back to a state of mind where he'd be willing to search for another job. It wasn't the end of the world that he'd gotten fired, and he and Trunks shouldn't have to suffer for something that was entirely neither of their fault.

"You haven't lost me," he said fervently, "And I'm not giving up on you, even if you've given up on yourself. You've gotten through much worse things than a simple financial crisis; this is ridiculous. What happened to your drive, Vegeta? Nothing like this would shake you before."

"What do you want me to do?" Vegeta snapped, sitting up, "Rob a bank? Strength counts for nothing in this regard, and that's all I ever had going for me before -"

"Learn to _accept some help._" Goku interrupted sharply, raising his voice just slightly, "I've been trying to help you since I found out what you were going through, but you just kept shaking me off. You've got so much more than strength, Vegeta. Look at me, you are smart and brave and determined, you can do anything if you set your mind to it. And don't you start to believe you don't have any hope because I am _giving _you some hope_ right now._"

Vegeta was silent, looking at Goku with an expression that was hard to describe, his lips slightly parted as if he'd been about to speak, his eyes a little wide with surprise.

Goku watched emotions cross his usually emotionless face; uncertainty, denial, consideration, and then the barest trace of the emotion Goku had been working to bring from him... hope.

"...Kakarot," he said thickly after a long moment, and Goku was startled to see his eyes unnaturally bright, as if he were repressing tears, "I... I've never thanked you for anything before... but..."

Goku stared, barely able to believe his ears.

Vegeta looked him in the eye, "...Th-thank you, Kakarot."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Gloves

Chapter 12 – Making Changes

Vegeta fell asleep – or rather, he awoke. It seemed that not even a moment had passed before his eyes flitted open. The clock beside his bed told him it was a little before noon, and he was about to get up when he realized something. Aside from the usual white gloves on his hands... he was completely naked, and he was not alone. Curled up behind him, an arm loosely around his waist, a tail wrapped around his lower thigh, was Kakarot, fast asleep and purring softly. It was the first time Vegeta had woken up next to someone – _held_ by someone – since the woman Bulma had passed away. He swallowed an unexpected knot of emotion and settled back against the pillows, forgoing his plans to rise for the day. For the moment... he wanted nothing more than to stay here. It had been far too long since he'd felt this peaceful.

Sighing inaudibly, he looked at the ceiling, reminiscing on the times he used to wake up in Bulma's arms like this. It used to irritate him; he would think her a clingy human and would try to escape her trapping clutches, for the sake of his own personal bubble as well as his pride. He'd never appreciated how much blind trust she was putting in him when she allowed herself to get so close, though. Even when his record wasn't exactly clean, she trusted him not to take advantage of how vulnerable she was in her sleep. She didn't think him a threat. And he'd never before realized that he missed that little bit of companionship... until awakening in Kakarot's arms today.

The difference was, with Kakarot snuggled close to him much the same as the woman would, it wasn't a gesture of seeking comfort or safety so much as _giving _it.

And _that_ was something Vegeta had never experienced before, ever. Not even when he was a child. No one had ever sought to comfort a prince, and he had assumed for much of his life that accepting comfort like that was weakness. It surprised him, then, that he didn't shrug off the protective contact Kakarot was giving. Maybe he had sunk to such weakness that he deserved to be treated in kind... or maybe he had just learned not to care anymore.

Kakarot's body was warm and steady, large enough to fold Vegeta easily in a gentle embrace, his legs were intertwined with Vegeta's own, one strong arm against his hip and the other behind his shoulders. He could feel the young Saiyan's soft breath on his neck, his heartbeat against his back, and his own tail instinctively coiled around one of Kakarot's biceps, conveying trust. He would have been perfectly content to sleep the day away this way.

Gradually, though, as Vegeta slipped into the lull of repose, Kakarot awoke. It was hard to tell that he had, since he remained silent for a long moment before speaking.

"You let me stay..." he murmured, almost a whisper.

Vegeta blinked; of all things, why did Kakarot choose to say that?

"What was I going to do, kick you out?"

Kakarot seemed to hesitate uncertainly, "Well yeah... I mean, you're okay with me spending the night in your house?"

Vegeta snorted, but the sound lacked spite, "You'd already spent a good portion of the night here, Kakarot," he muttered, "Another six hours or so of sleep in the morning is not a big deal... Besides," he sighed, "It's not really my house. And it won't be for long, anyway."

Kakarot nuzzled his neck gently, and he surprised himself by purring in response, leaning into the light contact.

"Don't be so down on yourself," the younger Saiyan murmured, "It'll work out in the end, you'll see."

Vegeta just shifted his weight without comment, only giving a grimace when he realized how sticky both of them were.

"I need a shower," he grumbled, glancing over at Kakarot, "...And _you_ need one too."

Kakarot's expression changed briefly, then set itself, unreadable. "Capsule Corp has three bathrooms," he said slowly.

Vegeta's tail flicked and he got to his feet, dragging Kakarot with him, "It'll save water if we take one together."

X

A week or two went by. Vegeta seemed... happier, which did Goku a world of good. He was calmer, less depressed, but whenever something concerning money or what had happened the night he got fired came up, he would suddenly grow quiet. He still avoided eye contact with Trunks too, so Goku knew there was still a lot that needed to be fixed.

Starting with Yamcha. Goku would have been more than happy to track the bastard down and send him into the next dimension ass-first... but he knew this situation required a more delicate approach. Vegeta needed to face the person who had so deeply insulted him, and Yamcha needed to receive the appropriate punishment from the person he had hurt, and from no one else.

The problem was... Vegeta couldn't seem to work up the nerve to go after Yamcha. He was reluctant to talk about it, and when he did, it was always with a murderous, blunt tone. Goku knew Vegeta wanted him to believe he was not afraid... and in truth he seriously doubted that the prince was afraid _of Yamcha_. That would just be ridiculous; the idiot had a mere fraction of Vegeta's courage and even less of his power. He looked like a joke standing next to the prince of all Saiyans.

No, Vegeta was afraid – even if he outright refused to admit it – of something else. Yamcha knew a lot more about Bulma that he hadn't revealed, and that was one of his main weapons against Vegeta. The other was Trunks. In one fell swoop, the scarred bastard had destroyed what remained of the boy's innocence and had rent an already unstable father-son relationship to shreds. He had used Vegeta's son to get back at him for something he couldn't change. Either way, Bulma was dead, but Yamcha wasn't about to forgive the person who had "stolen" her from him. And he would use whatever means he could get his weak, human hands on to make Vegeta suffer in any way that he could.

Vegeta liked to think he was a cold-hearted killer who didn't give a damn about anyone... but the only reason he was avoiding the eventual day when he would have to confront Yamcha was because he was afraid of the people he cared about getting caught in the mix. He was a lot more selfless than he wanted to believe.

In the meantime, he still didn't kick Goku out of Capsule Corp. He had to wonder why the prince let him stay, and while he checked in on Goten – who was staying with his older brother for a short time, since he was on winter break – when he could, he spent as much time as he could just shadowing Vegeta and keeping the faltering good mood from slipping away completely.

He had other matters to see to, as well. Vegeta's time owning Capsule Corp was limited; and as long as he wasn't earning a cent, it was only a matter of time before he would be forced to cut some of the things that made up his everyday life out of the picture. Like electricity. And food.

Goku secretly restocked the prince's refrigerator when he could, and intercepted the monthly bills when they came along, putting some of his money from winning martial arts tournaments into the things that were absolutely needed to keep the house functioning... but he couldn't do it all himself.

The first thing to go was the phone service. But Saiyans really didn't need to use such things anyway, so he considered it a minor loss. He caught himself scanning newspapers for job openings, and when he stopped and asked himself if he really thought Vegeta would pick himself back up enough to take up another job; he came to the conclusion that if the prince wouldn't do it, he would. Vegeta's happiness meant that much to him.

Goku was happy to just be in the presence of the person he loved, and while Vegeta allowed this silently, he was not overly enthusiastic about the idea. But then, he was never overly enthusiastic about anything, and Goku counted his quiet consensus as a form of acceptance. He was careful, though, not to push his boundaries. He would kiss Vegeta only when the prince was in a good mood, and he let him see the action coming – never springing it on him or anything. He slept beside him at night, but he didn't ask for more than that. He let Vegeta decide if he wanted him at close proximity, and if he didn't, then Goku would sleep on the very edge of the bed, or would move downstairs. Vegeta seemed willing enough to talk to him, most days, but whenever he would go silent in a conversation and look away, Goku would know that he had touched a subject the prince didn't want to speak of, and he would let it go for the time being.

There had to be a more permanent solution, not just to the wavering and one-sided relationship between them, but to the growing financial problem, and the emotional factor. There had to be a way to give Vegeta long-term happiness. Goku was sure an opportunity to find such a solution would present itself... he just hoped it would be at the right time.

X

_Enough of this_. Vegeta scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the front door and willing himself to turn the knob and go out there. He hadn't left the house in a week, and it was having an effect on him. Being stuck in Capsule Corp with _Kakarot_ of all people – no matter how careful and yielding the younger Saiyan might have been acting lately – was slowly going to drive him insane. Especially since he hadn't heard his last remaining, third-class subject laugh in almost a fortnight... and with Kakarot walking on eggshells every time he talked to the prince, he was becoming a bit of a nuisance to be around.

The reason that Vegeta was so hesitant to open the door, however, was that the prospect he was steeling himself to face was a difficult one... One he had been putting off for too long. It was time to find that imbecile Yamcha and give him what he well and good deserved.

Kakarot would not accompany him – as per Vegeta's request – and though he had promised not to kill the bastard human, he hadn't given himself any regulations on what precisely his punishment might be. It didn't matter that he wasn't allowed to murder or viciously torment the idiot... he could be _creative _if he set his mind to it.

Shaking off his thoughts, he grit his teeth and wrenched the door open, bringing an arsenal of well-rehearsed insults to the forefront of his mind and taking off without a backward glance.

It was fairly easy to locate the human, and even easier to sneak up on him. Yamcha, and the little magic pig creature whose name escaped Vegeta at the moment, were holed up in the perverted old hermit's attic, likely raiding his porn collection. They were alone in the rundown Kame house, not even the pervert himself or his weird pet turtle were there.

_If I can get rid of the pig, the bastard will be alone._ Vegeta thought, crouching above the windowsill out of sight, _I don't want that overgrown pork chop to hear any of what I intend to say, in any case._

Silently, he slid the window open, unnoticed by his prey.

_I'd forgotten how this feels...the thrill of the hunt..._

He took a moment to savor the moment of predatory anticipation, and then slipped through the open window and stood menacingly before the person who had so wounded his pride.

Yamcha looked up absently from his porno magazine, and the minute his lecherously-glazed eyes met Vegeta's narrow, burning ones, he did a double take and then got shakily to his feet, looking like he'd run headlong into one of his darkest nightmares. The little pork creature glanced at the scarred human, and then his gaze drifted to Vegeta. Instantly, a look of abject fear came into his piggy eyes. True, Vegeta smirked, that talking ham did get nervous when he was in the presence of Vegeta, and only seemed to drop that terror when someone with a high enough power level to protect him from the prince was also in the room.

That he was so terrified now was pretty justified. Yamcha could have no more stopped Vegeta than he could have stopped the sun from exploding if it chose to do so.

Yamcha, though, was known for making very stupid choices. He summoned a look of deepest loathing as he tried to appear powerful, not accounting for the Playboy magazine clutched in one of his hands.

"Look who's crawled out of their hidey-hole," he said smoothly, "Finally found the balls to leave your bedroom, Vegeta?"

Vegeta was silent, putting every bit of fire and hatred into his eyes that he had ever possessed.

"Yamcha I really wouldn't -" the pig person began.

"Relax, Oolong. His Highness is all talk these days." Yamcha muttered, "Besides, he knows Goku won't let him do anything bad to either of us."

Vegeta felt a sneer slide into place on his features. He had missed the satisfaction that came with being able to sneer, "I wouldn't count on that." he said levelly, "Kakarot's been considering coming over here himself. If I weren't about to hand you your miserable ass, he certainly would."

"Yamcha maybe we should get out of -" Oolong said.

"_You_ can hit the road," Vegeta growled at him, "Unless you fancy barbecue, of course."

The pig's eyes went very wide and he stammered something unintelligible before scurrying away, as fast as his little feet would carry him.

"Now then," Vegeta glared at Yamcha, lashing his tail to vent his anger and show that he was not afraid.

"What the hell do you think you're-?" Yamcha began heatedly.

"How much do you value your life, human?" Vegeta interrupted.

Yamcha's brave facade seemed to falter the barest bit under the venom in Vegeta's gaze.

"Were we on my home planet, your actions would have earned you an execution;" Vegeta went on airily, "Not even banishment befits those who dare to insult the prince like that... Although," he smirked dangerously, "Another, possible retribution was to be strung up to a tree by one's gonads and left for the birds."

Yamcha blanched involuntarily, but managed to collect himself enough to retort.

"You talk pretty big for someone who'd play a slut to collect some cash, and don't forget, we aren't _on_ your planet. If I remember right, it got destroyed before you even lost your royal virginity."

Vegeta didn't let himself snarl, though a large part of him wanted to. It would serve him better if he sounded calm and collected, and it would unnerve Yamcha exponentially.

"At least I profited for what I did those nights," he said coolly, "How much money did you flush down the toilet when you were in the audience tossing bills? And for what? None of those girls so much as batted an eyelid at you."

Yamcha averted his gaze quickly, "That's not the point."

"Correct." Vegeta said, "The _point_ is that you completely overstepped a line and you need to be penalized."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Yamcha muttered, "I'm perfectly allowed to walk into a club and request an audience with someone, regardless of _who_. If you didn't want people to do that, you wouldn't put up such a tease for nothing."

Vegeta blinked, "If I didn't know better, human," he said slowly, "I would say you actually admitted _attraction_ just now. But then, you were wasted beyond all sense of reason that night."

"Don't flatter yourself," Yamcha snapped.

"I didn't come here to listen to your asinine prattling," Vegeta sneered.

Yamcha snorted, "'Course you didn't. Then what did you come for? My head on a plate?"

"I'm seriously considering it."

X

Vegeta returned around sundown, and Goku was waiting for him.

"What happened?" he asked once the prince collapsed on the sofa.

"The bastard is still in one piece," Vegeta muttered.

Goku took that to mean that there was no violence involved.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing I hadn't already said before. Told him what would happen if he pissed me off... and reminded him that Bulma had picked me, not him, and there was nothing he could do to change that now... I said I was ready to move on from that, but I don't think he got the message."

"Well I never expected you two to become best buddies. I'd settle for tolerance, at least."

"I can't promise that," Vegeta scowled, "If he crosses my path again, I might have to obliterate him."

"I'd expect nothing less," Goku smirked, "I'm just glad there was no obliterating today."

Vegeta sighed and flicked his tail over his leg, "Someday, maybe."

Goku leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. Vegeta didn't protest, but the scowl didn't leave his face.

"I made some progress of my own today," Goku murmured, sitting down next to him, "A way to keep Capsule Corp from going under."

Vegeta's scowl disappeared. He just looked surprised, "What's that?"

Goku's tail twined with his prince's briefly, as he considered the choice he had made.

"I put my house up for sale."

Vegeta flinched, "What? Kakarot, you didn't have to do that..." he looked at him for a long moment, understanding coming into his eyes, "...You... you did that for me?"

"Of course." Goku said steadily.

"But...your home, Kakarot - where are you going to live now?"

And here Goku faltered. He wasn't sure how the prince would react... but he'd said himself that Capsule Corp wasn't really his house.

"Well I was thinking... if it's okay with you... that I could maybe stay here...?"

Vegeta was silent for a long moment, his expression completely blank.

"See I kept thinking about it..." Goku stammered, "...kept trying to find a permanent solution to the problem... and the only one I could come up with -"

"You would... live with me?" Vegeta asked quietly, interrupting.

Goku dropped his gaze to his lap, "I mean... if you're alright with it..."

Vegeta visibly hesitated, doubt and conflict playing out on his face. After a while, though, something rather like a smile crossed it.

"It does get quiet around here," he said slowly, carefully, "...And where else are you going to go, Kakarot?"

Goku looked at him, "You mean it?"

The prince rolled his eyes exasperatedly, "After all, it would be rather tactless of me to cast you out on the street when you've worked so hard to keep me from going the same way, wouldn't it?"

While his tone was rather sarcastic and irritated; and he played the part of not having any choice, Goku could tell that Vegeta was accepting of his own free will, and he did so because he actually cared.

Goku grinned at him, his tail flicking happily, "Heh, what do you know? You do have a heart."

Vegeta scoffed, "Don't push your luck, Kakarot."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Gloves

Chapter 13 – When Coercing Royalty

Alright, Goku admitted, he was nervous.

He stood with Trunks outside the Capsule Corp kitchen, running over what the lavender-haired teen had told him in his mind over and over. Somehow, no matter how he looked at it... he just couldn't see Vegeta agreeing.

The young demi-Saiyan still held the sheaf of paper he'd been showing and explaining to Goku, but it was slightly crumpled from when he'd clenched it anxiously in his fist. Apparently Trunks was as uncertain as Goku was.

"We won't know unless we ask him," Goku pointed out.

Trunks sighed, "It'll take a real stroke of luck, you know how Dad is. He'd never agree to something like this unless he was forced."

"Still," Goku pressed, "It's worth a try."

The teenager looked up at him hopefully, "You'll have to ask him... he never listens to me anymore. Not since he found out I lied to him..."

"You didn't _lie_ to him."

"Deceived him, then. I pretended I didn't know what was going on, but I did. And he tried so hard to protect me from it all..."

Goku's tail flicked; he hated what Yamcha had done to the relationship between Vegeta and his son, but the instability had started before the incident with the scarred ex-fighter's idiocy. It had started with the first lies Vegeta had told, to shield his only son from what he saw as a disgraceful thing he had been forced into doing... and Trunks's faked ignorance of the whole thing that had lead the prince to believe he was succeeding in his efforts to blind his son to the truth.

Living in the same house with the two Saiyan princes was becoming a little awkward these days.

Goten was permitted to stay at Capsule Corp as well, but more often than not he stayed with his brother; despite all the technology and luxury that Capsule Corp offered – or _used_ to offer – he was more comfortable around definite family than around his father and the somewhat-family he must have seen Vegeta as. Goku supposed he could understand that.

He looked back at the distressed face of Trunks, summoning the comforting expression he'd used on his sons – and Vegeta, more recently – often.

"He loves you, Trunks," he said steadily, meeting the teen's blue eyes, "Even if he can't say it."

He wished he could say the same about himself... it had been months and he still had no idea what Vegeta truly thought about him... if he loved him in return for all the times he said it, or simply tolerated him.

"I know," Trunks muttered, flushing a little and looking away in embarrassment.

There was a moment's slightly uncomfortable silence. While Goku and Trunks shared Capsule Corp with the Prince of All Saiyans now, they were still more than a little unsure around each other. What does one say to the person they know has slept with their father more than once, and who now lives in the same house as them?

Trunks shifted his weight and glanced at the wrinkled poster he still held in one hand.

"I suppose we should ask him now," he mumbled.

Goku nodded, "No time like the present."

X

Vegeta found himself literally backed against a wall. Kakarot and Trunks were standing on either side of him, looking at him unwaveringly but saying nothing. The gods alone knew what the two of them could possibly want, but the prince had a dreadful feeling that he was being gradually set up or something.

He closed the refrigerator uneasily, taking a hesitant bite of the sandwich in his hand and glancing at his son and his third-class roommate bemusedly.

"What do you want?" he asked bluntly, figuring there was no better way to get information than to demand it.

Kakarot glanced at Trunks expectantly, and the demi blinked at him and took a step back, seeming to ask '_why me?'_

Oh yes, Vegeta was definitely being set up.

Trunks cleared his throat after a silent argument with Kakarot using only their eyes; apparently one Kakarot had won somehow.

"I was out with Goten the other day," he said slowly, moving his long bangs out of his eyes as he spoke, nervously, "And I found something in town I think... you should consider."

Vegeta braced a hand against his hip and took another bite of the sandwich in his other one, chewing throughtfully before responding.

"And what's that?" he said impatiently, tail swishing.

Trunks held something out to him, a sheet of paper with writing on it and a monochromatic, high-resolution picture printed towards the bottom of it. Vegeta's eyes scanned it quickly, perplexed, and then he realized what he was looking at.

"No." he said instantly. Solidly.

"Told you he'd take it well," Kakarot muttered, folding his arms.

"I _told_ you, Kakarot," Vegeta growled, rounding on him, "Never again. I will not humiliate myself like that again, no matter how you put it."

Kakarot's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "But it's different," he implored, "No one would demean you for doing this, you would be respected for it."

"No. It's stupid and pointless. I refuse."

"But Vegeta -"

"I have given you my answer Kakarot. And as for you -" his voice broke off as he glared at his son, "-_boy,_" he forced out, hating the use of the word, his voice becoming a snarl, "You dare disrespect me by suggesting something as asinine and insulting as this? Some moronic audition for ballerinas to sign up and twirl for an audience? What do you take me for?"

Trunks dropped his blue gaze and studied his shoes, "It's not like that, Dad... it's a dance competition."

"I don't want to hear it." Vegeta retorted, "And I've already said I refuse, how else do you want me to say it?"

"But you're really good -!" Trunks protested.

"And I suppose you would know?" Vegeta sneered cruelly, "You know nothing about me," his scowl extended to include Kakarot as well, "Neither of you."

Kakarot met his gaze, almost challenging, his tail around his waist loosely, "Back to denial then, Vegeta?" he said quietly.

Vegeta almost flinched. _Damn him. He knows just how to get to me. And damn if I didn't walk right into that by letting him stay..._

"Just try," Kakarot pleaded, "Give it a chance, Vegeta, this could be good for you."

Vegeta snorted disbelievingly, "How?"

"It could bring your confidence back," the third-class Saiyan said, "And it'll make you feel good about yourself."

"How would you know?" Vegeta snapped.

Kakarot swallowed, "I've seen it. I've seen what you're like when you just let go and try. When you're so sure of yourself that no one else matters."

Vegeta was silent, a frown firmly in place.

"I've seen you when you dance like no one's watching," Kakarot murmured, his tail coming loose to sway slowly by his side.

"Please, Dad?" Trunks asked uncertainly, "I know it would have made mom really happy to see you get back on your feet and try again, even when it's hard."

Vegeta wavered, thinking for a moment. _What if I were to just...?_

He shook off the thought, "The answer is still no. Absolutely not."

Kakarot seemed to hesitate, averting his eyes for a long moment before looking at him again.

"I'll go with you," he offered, his face honest and beseeching, "You won't have to face any of it alone. We can audition together."

"Don't patronize me, Kakarot." Vegeta growled.

Kakarot rolled his eyes impatiently, "Then don't keep acting like you need me to."

Vegeta blinked, startled; _When did he actually start having comebacks for things like that? He can actually fight me back in an argument, it's almost..._ He smirked, strangely pleased, _...it's almost __badass__..._

Kakarot's arms uncrossed and he leaned against the wall thoughtfully, "Tell you what," he said, "You only have to show up. I won't force you to participate if you think it's too hard, or too idiotic, or whatever. I'll go with you, and we'll just see how it looks, alright? And if you _really_ feel like you can't do it, we'll turn right around and come straight home."

Vegeta noticed that was the first time Kakarot had referred to Capsule Corp as his home... He looked at the younger Saiyan, watching the grin crawl up his face and feeling an answering smirk turning up his own mouth.

"Okay?" Kakarot laughed.

Vegeta sighed resignedly; somehow he always managed to get dragged into things.

He ate the last of his sandwich and glared upon his fellow Saiyan exasperatedly, "Okay." he muttered.

X

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Vegeta said through gritted teeth.

Goku glanced at him quickly; the prince had been doing this all day. For several days, in fact. He would protest and attempt to back out of it whenever he thought he could get away with it, but with a little persuasion and a refusal to take no for an answer, he would sigh and go along with what Goku said again. He would know when Vegeta had reached his limit and was actually incapable of going through with it, but he hadn't seen that yet. Only reluctance and complaining, and that could be remedied - or, if all else failed, ignored.

Goku was careful, though, not to push Vegeta too far. The audition was in two weeks, which meant they had one to practice. The other would be devoted entirely to the perfection of what they had been working on. Of course Vegeta had been stubborn and resisting in the beginning, even punching Goku in the face at some point when he'd teasingly suggested putting the prince in a dress.

Okay, maybe he had gone a little far with that one.

He'd often asked for the prince's input on what they should do, but Vegeta seemed indifferent, not caring in the slightest and sporting a just-get-it-over-with attitude. So, for the most part, Goku had to take charge.

The gravity chamber was the best place to rehearse, for several reasons. It was empty, it had no windows (anymore) and it could be locked from the inside. One thing Vegeta had insisted on was, if they were going to go through with this, it was going to be entirely in private.

Goku supposed he should count himself lucky he got that much out of him; the prince wasn't a very good team player, and he was hardly an enthusiastic dance partner.

But, he had to admit, Vegeta definitely had skill. What he lacked in experience he made up for in raw talent, and decades of battles as well as those two years with the pole had given him flexibility, durability, and oddly... an eye for detail that Goku lacked. While the prince criticized him ruthlessly with a sharp tongue that could leave scars in stone, even the put-downs on bad form or timing thrilled Goku. They let him know Vegeta was paying attention, and actually cared enough about this to correct a mistake.

The other trait Vegeta possessed that Goku did not was a reluctant fashion sense. Goku had already tried, more than once, to design something for both of them to wear, a costume of sorts, for the performance... and to his slight surprise, Vegeta had butted in and outright changed the entire design himself, muttering about incompetent third-class excuses for Saiyans the whole time. And what he'd settled on was... actually very tasteful; sexy even. Nothing like the prince himself had donned on the nights he spent in the club, but the clothes were strategically eye-catching, even though they were almost entirely black. Prince Vegeta had a thing for black.

Something else they had disagreed on early-on in the procedure was music. Everything Goku had managed to get his hands on was slow and old-fashioned, Beethoven and the like; but that wasn't what Vegeta wanted. The prince wanted fast and modern, something passionate, but he hadn't given any specifications himself... making Goku do all the work, as usual.

Though... there was one moment that had changed Goku's mind when he'd felt like simply giving up and letting Vegeta quit. The prince had been being extremely stubborn, refusing to do anything Goku asked and scowling at him the entire time; calling him an idiot and worse whenever he gave a suggestion... all but spitting on what little they had worked on the past few days. Vegeta had ended up shouting and Goku, and he shouted right back, and stormed off, leaving Vegeta alone in the gravity room with the last strains of the latest concerto Goku had brought to the table fading away behind him.

He'd returned several minutes later, after calming his temper and telling himself he was being immature, to find the door to the gravity room open a crack, the lights still on. He'd been about to track Vegeta down and rant at him for wasting the electricity he'd given up his house to pay for, but then he noticed that Vegeta's ki was still in the room. He could hear the backbeat of some form of music he had not picked playing, something rapid with electric violin... and, curious, he had peered around the edge of the door into the room.

What he saw astounded him. Amid the powerful music pouring from the advanced stereo system Bulma had hooked up to the room long ago – it had been used for making announcements to the room's occupants long ago - Vegeta was moving skillfully through a kata, lingering irritation and concentration written plainly on his features. But there was something different; he wasn't so much concentrating on balance or form as he would if he were training, it seemed all his effort was going into elegance, coordinating with the flowing melody of the violin in the background. It was only when the prince pivoted and spun timelessly across the stage he'd set that Goku realized it was not a kata, but a dance. He didn't notice Goku's presence, just moving through the stunning executions of motion, the music he'd chosen throbbing around him... and Goku had remembered why he'd asked Vegeta to do this in the first place.

After that, he stopped trying to force Vegeta, but instead tried to appeal to what he was more inclined to respond to. He used the music the prince liked better, followed his suggestions – even if they were more of insults than anything - and let him stop when he got frustrated and take a break for the day. But he didn't let him quit entirely. After what he'd seen the prince could do – was _willing _to do – when he thought no one else could see... he wanted to get Vegeta onto a real stage all the more, so he could finally showcase the talent he kept denying he possessed.

TBC

_((The song with the electric violin that I heard for that scene was Lindsey Stirling's "Shadows", I dunno, I thought it was a great song and something Vegeta would be more likely to cooperate with. Someone suggested to me the combination of Vegeta and violin a while ago, and now I can't seem to separate the two ideas...possibly why that turned out the way it did._

_This is one of the last chapters of this story. There will be one more, and then an epilogue of sorts. _

_Thank you for reading and reviewing, and for your patience during this tough time of inspiration. I haven't been updating as often as I should and you all deserve better._

_Love you guys, and enjoy the last few installments of this little tale._

_-Shinsun))_


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